Wraith: Agent of the Force
by MyInnerVoices
Summary: This is an original story about a Force user who finds himself tangled up between the warring sides of Jedi and Sith. I claim no ownership of the Star Wars universe except the Original Characters created for the purpose of this story.
1. Training Day

Training day

His master was not happy.

"Again. Focus. Do not let your own vitality turn against you," he crackled from behind the shadows. The apprentice bowed, his eyebrows twitching in frustration. Why couldn't this old Muun ever speak in straight lines?

He reset the droid with a quick push on the control panel on his wrist and held his unignited lightsaber aloft. The droid stirred to life, ignited its own lightsaber and the two combatants locked blades. The apprentice was familiar with this training module: he had beaten it dozens of times, twice in a row if his latest attempts could be taken into consideration. Swipe, swipe, parry, strike, block, re-direct and strike once more. The droid gained a new scar on its left collarbone. He kept sparring with the droid, fluidly transitioning from one sequence to another. His mind, trained to be open to the Force, warned him of . . . something. He altered his step, swathing his lightsaber through the droid's large clamp-like fingers, causing the severed joints and weapons to fall. Using the Force, the apprentice grabbed the lightsaber and performed a double strike, bifurcating the droid.

Something still felt off and a small smile creeping on his master's lips confirmed his suspicion. A slight whirring behind him made the apprentice spin, both lightsabers at the ready. Three turrets aimed each of their double barrels at him and let out a stream of laser.

"Battle awareness," croaked the master. He would harp upon this concept day after day, training session after training session. His master had described it as a form of active battle meditation: having complete awareness and control over all aspects of the battlefield. His master had stressed that he must use all means to gain the upper hand and survive. And that meant being victorious.

The apprentice used both lightsabers to block the laser from the turrets. He was on open ground, with no cover from the fire. Had he not gained a second lightsaber, increasing his defenses, he would have been overwhelmed. He covered himself, twirling the blades to shield his body and allowed himself to listen. The whole process only lasted a few seconds but the apprentice grasped the timing of the turrets. Abruptly he threw both lightsabers at the turrets on his sides, impaling the constructs. At the same time he channeled the Force, increasing his speed and ran toward the turret directly in front of him. He zigzagged widely avoiding the laser and when he was close enough he used the Force to grip and crush the control matrix on the turret. With a smug attitude he walked to towards his master, Force pulling both lighsabers and tossing the droid's weapons back at what was left of it. He knelt in front of his master.

"Good, good. An impressive use of the basic repertoire of the Force." It was a rare praise from his master, but it was heartfelt. The apprentice smiled, happy to have pleased his mentor.

"But maybe it's time you faced a real challenge. One that stakes your life." Before the apprentice could react, his lightsaber was yanked from his side and into his master's awaiting hand. From the nearby stream of running water, a gush of water surged towards his face. The water engulfed his head, threatening to drown him. Panic coursed through him and his mind was tethering on the edge, soon to plunge into panic. He needed to breath but ha could never break his master's Force powers. He focused all his power on creating a small bubble of air covering his mouth and nostrils, allowing him to breathe dregs of foul, stale air. But air nonetheless.

"You can't resist me forever. You must take action," said the master. The apprentice agreed. Action was needed, and immediately. But he couldn't attack. Not against his master; not against someone with such vast power. With his air supply at an end, he tried to remember some sort of power, Force or otherwise, that could help him in this situation. But his master had only taught him the basics. He hadn't even shown him how to operate the droid or open the holocrons.

The holocrons!

The answer was now clear. He needn't fight his master's Force powers: not with the technique he had in mind. He took one last breath and released his hold. Water invaded every orifice of his face. The apprentice committed himself to the Force and then let go. He released all hold he had on the Force coursing through his body, the very life in his body. Slowly his body began to slow down, shutting down and ceasing function. The apprentice soon fell unconscious, but left a small portion of the Force, warning him if anyone approached him.

The Master felt the Force leave his apprentice and released his hold on the water. His apprentice fell unconscious on the ground, his skin paler than usual. The master sensed no life in his student. Should he attempt to heal or even resurrect him? He needed the boy after all. The aged Muun approached the fallen apprentice cautiously.

As the master approached, slowly closing the distance, the apprentice's eyes snapped open and abruptly sat up. The master halted his step, puzzled. The Force surged once more through the apprentice, who got to is feet and pulled his lightsaber from is master's grasp. Anger clouded his mind, bolstered by the fear of nearly dying. His entire life, he had been taught that anger and hate are what give power, and that is how he must use the Force. He relished in the power and lit his lightsaber, angrily bringing the blade down on his mentor.

But the plasma sword never connected with the aged Muun. Having used the Force to block the swing and push away his apprentice, the master let out a bellicose laugh which echoed throughout the cave.

"Morichro. I see you wasted no time in examining the holocrons I got from the Jedi Temple. It takes quite some skill to use such a technique. However you're far from mastering it. Seeing as you're still half-dead." The apprentice got to one knee and still clutched his lightsaber.

"Consider this is your graduation," said the master. "It is our way to slay our own mentors. But it is also our way to learn all our masters have to offer before slaying them." The master extracted his own lightsaber and hovered the blade over the apprentice's head.

"This is the Sith way. Rise now. You are the Sith apprentice to Darth Mortris." The apprentice rose to face his master and gave a court bow. Mortris spun and began walking away.

"Come now, my apprentice. I have a mission for you."


	2. Welcome to the Jungle

Welcome to the Jungle

Felucia was an uninhabitable planet. This part of the jungle had nothing but leaves the size of houses and chockfull of flora and fauna designed to eat and digest anything in their path. The apprentice wiped sweat from his brow for the millionth time. Aside from the humidity and sheer moisture of the place, the terrain was just unspeakable. All the obstacle courses in the entire galaxy could not have prepared him for this jungle. And this was just the beginning.

Of the jungle was terrifying, the command post was nightmarish. The gray super-structure loomed over giant boulders and trees, sticking out like a gray sore thumb amidst the ambient colors of the Felucian jungle. Unlike your common droid factory, this post was not designed for production but control. It was here that the Seperatist leaders relayed their commands to this post and in turn it would give the droids their mission. This command post relayed missions to droids for this entire sector, covering some three dozen planetary systems. What's more, because this post is older that the newer ones in the Inner Rim, the command center had a trace which could lead to the identification and location of whoever sent the command. And whoever gave the orders was either a politician or a business mogul, so having the finger pointed at them was unacceptable. So they thought this post was safe, hidden deep in the dangerous jungles of Felucia. What they did not count on is a political treaty which pushed the planet into Republic hands. That would explain the legions of clones which have been slowly but surely edging closer to the vital command post. The clones knew what their price was: the Jedi had attacked the planet with all their might in hopes of deciphering the vital data. If they arrested the Seperatist leaders, the resources for the droid army would dwindle significantly. Count Dooku, the leader of the Seperatists, had already anticipated the loss of that post and had ordered his General Grevious to shut down and destroy the facility. But Grevious had argued that the droids could still maintain their facility. And now it was too late. The droids could not hold off the clone army whilst the facility is being shut down. And so a Sith Lord named Darth Sidious called in a favor from another Sith Lord: Darth Mortris. The latter had in turn dispatched his apprentice on a unique mission: to infiltrate and sabotage the command post. The data records were to be destroyed and the self-destroyed sequence to be activated. The apprentice had to slip through a battle between the Clones and droids.

The apprentice pulled up his hood, covering his features. His jungle robes were not the billowing over preferred by his master and the majority of Sith; he rather preferred the close fitting version, with no extra cloth to snag or billow in the wind giving away his position.

He ducked behind some sentry droids and quickly disabled them. He used the Force to leap towards a barred window and used his lightsaber to cut through the metal. He checked his holographic map once more: to the right was the barracks and eventually the front door, leading to the battlefield outside. He headed to the left and, a few patrols later, he was on his way to the reactor room. That was where the bombs went. Once the changes were set, he headed for the ventilation shaft. He crawled around the tunnels and was soon atop the control room. He'd need to destroy all the machines in this room, droids or otherwise.

He patted his lightsabers, making sure both were still there. After what happened with the turrets, he decided to adopt twin lightsabers. But he made sure to hide one of them giving the impression he uses one weapons, giving him a trump card in case of difficulty. He clutched one and used the Force to push out the ventilation door. The metallic grid crashed into a monitor, shattering it. The apprentice followed suit, landing in the midst of a room full of droids, crouching like a jaguar awaiting the prey. There was a second of silence until the droids computed this sudden eventuality. The apprentice broke all silence with the ignition of his lightsaber.

"Destroy him."

"Roger, roger." Blaster shots rocketed around the room, trying to catch the dark figure with a red lightsaber. The apprentice weaved around the droids, letting them shoot down their own companions. His lightsaber made short work of the rest. Sheathing his weapon, he activated the self-destruct sequence and unleashed a barrage of Force lightning in all directions. Hard drive after hard drive exploded and soon the room was a pile of charred silicone and metal. He climbed back into the ventilation shaft but took a different path. He had to go to the main hanger and steal a starship or fighter back to the transport ship awaiting in the stratosphere. He had landed thanks to tan automated glider; an arcane method but unexpected. And if something is unexpected, one does not look for it.

He arrived at the hanger where a small battle was taking place. The droids were soon overwhelmed by the squad of clones.

"General Stal. We have secured the hanger," radioed in one of the clones.

"Jenna and I are on our way, commander," was the reply on the intercom. This was bad. If a Jedi Master and Padawan made it here his escape would be all the more difficult. The apprentice decided that he needed to get on that ship and leave immediately, before the Jedi got here. Igniting his lightsaber, the apprentice dashed towards the clones, cutting down two before the others had time to react. Deflecting blaster fire from the others, the apprentice unleashed lightning once more killing another clone. He saw one trying to flank him and used the Force to pull the clone towards his lightsaber, impaling him. Using the dead clone as a shield, the apprentice ran towards the remaining clone and rammed the two clones together. The living one sprawled on the ground, his weapon lost. As he scrambled on his feet, the apprentice applied the Force on him. The clone felt pressure around his neck and was soon hovering in the air, his feet dangling uselessly.

"Let him go." The scream came from the smaller of the two figures, both wearing the white and tan of Jedi robes. Two humans, one male one female, strode in. The female had her lightsaber ignited; a beautiful lavender blade illuminating her features. The man had his lightsaber in his hand, unignited.

"I said, let him go!" yelled the female again as she raised her blade.

"Calm yourself, Jenna. We are dealing with a monster who does not respond well to reason or civility," said the man. The Jedi Master glared at the apprentice.

"But I suggest you do release the clone, Sith." He spat out the word like a bad taste. The apprentice eyed them curiously; he had expected someone more . . . impressive. The man looked frail and the Padawan could barely stop twitching. She reminded him of his companions during the Sith selection process. She reminded him of a fearful pup.


	3. Lightsaber Threeway

Lightsaber Threeway

The apprentice eyed them and decided that he wanted, no _needed_, to test his skills against this Jedi pair. Imagine, if he could claim his first Jedi kill when he was still an apprentice. And a Master to boot.

He applied a lethal amount of Force on the Force Choke he had on the clone and soon a thick snapping sound echoed throughout the hanger. The Clone fell in a heap, his head hanging limply.

"No!" screamed the Padawan. She ran towards the apprentice, her beautiful lavender blade held high. Her master tried to stop her but, seeing he was too late, he dashed after his pupil. Still, he was far away. The apprentice held his red lightsaber ready and in a split second moved in for the easy kill that the Padawan had become.

But his senses warned him of danger. A cyan lightsaber spun in his vision and he managed to block it. The weapon flew back to the Jedi Master. He pressed a button on the long handle and a second cyan blade appeared from the other end.

The apprentice locked blades briefly with the Padawan, before using his free hand to punch her in the gut, channeling the Force through his fist. He clashed with the Master, exchanging blows at high speed. Ducking underneath the Padawan's blade, he locked blades with the Master before the Padawan added her blade. As he was about to be overwhelmed, the apprentice extracted his second lightsaber and swung the crimson blade in a wide arc. The Master anticipated the move: he used one hand to Force push his Padawan from harm's way, whilst deflecting the red blade with the second blade on his saberstaff. The apprentice unleashed lightning at the Master throwing him backwards. As the Padawan moved closer, the apprentice connected the pommels of his lightsabers and twirled his red saberstaff. Clashing with the Padawan, he soon overwhelmed her defenses and kicked her legs from beneath her. Her Master pulled the apprentice away from his student, engaging him in battle.

"Is this really all you can do?" asked the apprentice. He wasn't being snide; simply curious. His Master had warned him that Jedi Masters were beyond his league and yet here he was, holding his own against not one but two Jedi, one of which was a Master.

"Be quiet, you monster," snarled the Jedi Master. More blows were exchanged. The Padawan re-joined the fight but was soon thrown away by the apprentice, who kicked her away. Both saberstaffs twirled, clashing equally. The apprentice couldn't feel any advantage; both warriors were of equal skill and wielded equal weapons. After another blade lock, the apprentice twisted off one end of the lightstaff and once more wielded twin lightsabers.

"I believe the Jar Kai technique will best you, Jedi Master," mocked the apprentice. He launched an assault, driving the Master to the defensive. Flanking the Jedi, the apprentice drove a blade through the handle of the saberstaff and both cyan blades disappeared. Following the momentum, the apprentice drove his second blade through the Jedi's abdomen.

"That's the disadvantage to constructing traditional lightsaber staffs. Cut the power cell and both blades vanish," whispered the apprentice in the dying Jedi Master's ear before Force pushing him away.

"Master!" The Padawan let out a scream through the Force, forcing the apprentice to back away.

"How could you?" she screamed. The apprentice reconnected the pommels of his weapons and twirled his staff around.

"He made a mistake. I exploited it. It's called winning," sneered the apprentice. He couldn't believe it – he had bested a Jedi Master.

"It's called murder," snarled the Padawan. She launched herself at the apprentice, using the Force to push him. But he was awaiting that. As he felt his body move, he himself applied the Force, throwing his lightstaff at the Padawan. Retrieving his weapon, the apprentice leapt from one side to another trying to catch the Padawan unawares. The Padawan used the Force to throw cargo boxes lying around in the hanger at the apprentice, slowing him down. Engaging him once more, the Padawan tried to get close enough to destroy the hilts of his staff. The apprentice, aware if this, caught her in a blade lock before switching off the blades and causing her to stumble forwards. He was very close to her, at an angle where she had to twist awkwardly to catch him with her plasma sword. Switching to hand-to-hand combat, he unleashed a flurry of punches and knee strike, as well as hitting her with the unignited hilt of his lightsaber. The Padawan was thrown away, her lightsaber lost and her head in a daze. The apprentice moved in for his second kill of the day.


	4. Hunting and Hunted

Hunting and Hunted

The apprentice ignited one end of his saberstaff, the red blade pointed at the Padawan at his feet. This would be his second Jedi kill in less than an hour. His master would be extremely proud. He'd be one step closer to learning more, to becoming more powerful and be all that closer to attaining the title of Sith Lord for himself.

But all that came to a sudden halt. The artificial lighting of the hanger lit back up, draining power from the backup generator. All around them, battle droids poured in, their blasters at the ready.

"An impressive feat, Sith Apprentice." The partially robotic voice came from a large, hunched figure.

"General Grevious, I presume," said the apprentice. Grevious coughed in response.

"I was sent here to do something you couldn't, General," continued the apprentice, shifting his stance to face the cyborg as well as still hold his red lightsaber at the Padawan's neck.

"You destroyed my facility," replied Grevious angrily.

"Unlike you, I follow orders. And I don't constantly screw up," shot back the apprentice. "We're on the same side General, and I've already completed my mission. So how about I just leave without causing you more damage?"

Grevious let out a noise that sounded like a mixture of a growl and exhaling. "Kill them," he commanded. Before the droids gave their usual 'Roger, Roger', the apprentice pressed a button on his wrist panel, triggering the explosives he had planted earlier inside the reactor core. The building shook violently, toppling droids over. The apprentice leapt, avoiding the tremor at his feet and ignited the other end of his lightsaber, as he cut a swathe through the small army of droids. Jenna, the Padawan, retrieved her weapon and assaulted the droids on her side. Soon both duelists found themselves fighting the droids back to back.

"This doesn't mean anything," yelled the Padawan over blaster fire. "I'm still going to kill you."

"Oh, so you just need my support the deal with the droids?" asked the apprentice in a mocking tone.

"Be quiet and help me destroy Grevious."

"You want to take him on?! He'll kill you for sure."

"You Sith are all cowards."

"Don't mistake survival instincts for cowardice. Our sense of self-preservation is why we lasted this long." As they spoke more droids fell to their lightsaber skills.

"Besides," continued the apprentice. "I want you to live and become a Master. There is no glory is slaying a Padawan."

"You're despicable and I shall kill you," she roared as she took out her rage on the droid closest to her.

"Him first," said the apprentice, pointing at General Grevious. The cyborg had removed his tattered cloak and clutched four lightsabers in each of his arms. Having destroyed the last of the droids, both apprentice and Padawan clashed with him, flanking his sides. But they were tired from their previous battles, and this dulled their powers. The apprentice spun his saberstaff and, with a stroke of luck, his assault managed to cut through one of the General's arms. He blocked a blade aimed for the Padawan's neck and together they managed to destroy another of the cyborg's weapons. Grevious kicked the Padawan away and launched an assault against the apprentice. Using one of his damaged arms, he stabbed at the long handle of the saberstaff, damaging one of the emitters. One lightsabers which constructed the lightsaber staff began fluctuating wildly, forcing the apprentice to switch it off and discard it. Reduced to one weapon, he blocked the General's offence, allowing for Jenna to sneak behind the cyborg. Her slash damaged his spine mechanism and the cyborg's mobility became more rigid. With a particularly vicious swing he knocked the apprentice down and stomped on him with one large claw-like foot. Using the Force, the apprentice managed to knock one of the General's remaining lightsabers away from him, sending the unignited hilt sailing over to the other side of the hanger. Enraged, the cyborg stomped on the apprentice again and extended his foot claws, pinning the apprentice underneath him. Turning to face Jenna, the cyborg parried a strike and knocked the Padawan's weapon away. He grabbed her by the neck and thrust his remaining lightsaber through her chest.

"Die now, Jedi scum," he wheezed. Jenna's eyes met the apprentice as she died. He could see the plea for help in her eyes before they slowly rolled into the back of her head. The apprentice squirmed wildly, trying the lift the General's weight off of his chest. That look would haunt him forever. He suddenly was overwhelmed with the need to help her, to somehow preserve her life. But his Sith training had instilled in him only anger and hate, never compassion. Whilst the apprentice was having the beginning of an internal conflict, Grevious discarded her lifeless body away and grabbed her lightsaber.

"A nice addition to my collection. Three lightsabers in one day," he commented. That did it! The way Grevious had discarded her body, like it was a useless piece of junk, the way he claimed that beautiful lavender lightsaber for himself. It was a thing of pure beauty and a monster such as Grevious did not deserve to touch it, much less hold it. And then there was the fact that Grevious turned his attention to the apprentice underneath his foot. The apprentice was confused by all these emotions welling up in him, unsure how to channel them, but he had final found a familiar feeling: self-preservation.

"Collect this," snarled the apprentice. He grabbed the leg pinning him down and unleashed all the lightning he could muster. Telekinetically he tugged on the joint screw on the cyborg's hip, exposing the delicate mechanism. He thrust his lightsaber in the cyborg's hip, separating the leg from the rest of the bizarre creature. He used the force to throw the heavy appendage at the cyborg, toppling him over. Scrambling to his feet, the apprentice bolted towards the only upright starship and climbed into it. He was soon flying away, before his ship got hit. But he managed to put more and more distance between him and the cyborg despot.

He hit the intercom on his wrist. "Master. The mission was a success. I have encountered two Jedi and slew the Master. General Grevious killed the Padawan. The General and I had an altercation and my ship is damaged."

"Most impressive," replied his Master. "You have done me proud, my apprentice." The communication ended. The apprentice let out a sigh. He had managed. He was tired and injured, had only one functioning lightsaber whilst the other hung uselessly in his robes, and his ship was damaged. But despite all that he still managed to succeed.

A figure stood under the rain and lightning, his heavy cloak and armor shielding him from the moisture. As the ship flew above him, he unleashed a bolt of lightning, catching the ship. The pilot would believe he was unfortunate enough to be struck by natural lightning. The ship spun wildly out of control before crashing behind a mountain in a billow of smoke.


	5. Stripped of Heart

Stripped of Heart

"Good day, Sith scum." Grevious was happy. He had pushed back the clones, relocated to a better base and could eerily gaze enjoyably at the captured apprentice.

The latter suspended from the magnetic locks, arms spread eagle as if crucified. Droids held stun batons and had no qualms about using them as cattle prods and torture implements. For a week they had their fill of his screams; droids were the perfect torturers, having no emotions whatsoever. On the eight day Grevious had come to visit him.

"I have nothing to give you," groaned the apprentice. He was having difficulty breathing properly.

"Oh yes. I am well aware of that," replied the cyborg sadistically.

"Then why?" rasped the apprentice. "Why all this? Why not just kill me?"

Grevious let out his metallic laugh. "Because you are a message, Sith. Thanks to your sabotage I now know that there are other Sith other that Dooku, and they are against me. I will imprison you forever, showing them what awaits them should they decide to get in my way again."

"I am useful to my master," said the apprentice. "It won't be long until he comes for me."

"Your master you say?" asked Grevious. "This wouldn't be the same Darth Mortris who discreetly passed me a warning about some Sith assassin in my base?"

The apprentice's eyes spread open, wide in shock. "No! You lie!"

"Did you not find it strange that your engine blew up?"

"I was struck by lightning. It was an unfortunate accident."

"You engine was indeed struck by lightning, but it was not natural."

"You lie!" screamed the apprentice.

"Then watch this. This is from the onboard astro droid," said Grevious as he extracted a large, circular astro droid head. After a few button pushes an image began projecting. It showed the storm with lightning erupting from the surrounding cumulonimbus clouds yet not bolt hit the starfighter. Then the image shook violently as a lightning bolt crawled from the underside of the ship. It was definitely not natural lightning; the image projected it as darker and different shade of blue and violet. After the final twist of electricity, the image ended in static.

"As you can see, it was not natural lightning. That was Sith Lightning," said the cyborg. "And to my knowledge only few Sith remain who are powerful enough to unleash such potent Force powers."

"Master wouldn't stoop so low," said the apprentice adamantly.

"He betrayed you, apprentice; sold you out. Your master was faced with a choice: you or joining our side. You want to know how much you're worth? Four ancient Sith scrolls. That's your price: four musty, yellow, scraps of paper." The cyborg let out a burst of laughter and bent over in a coughing fit. Desperate, the apprentice reached for the Force, attempting to break free. He channeled anger and pain, his heartbreak fuelling his power, and the droids were thrown backward. But he wasn't strong enough to break free of the magnetic bonds. His anger wasn't powerful enough. He tried to reach deep in his heart and channel the Dark Side from his very depth. He felt empty, as if his heart had died. What was the point in fighting? Why kill and battle? He had nothing: no home, no Master, no bonds of any sort. He was utterly alone.

"Don't you have a war to lose? General?" he said meekly.

"Yes, yes. You think you have me now but I haven't begun with you yet. You will be cast aside, thrown in a prison cell for the rest of your life. I want to see how long it will take for you to break down. I am curious how despair will twist you. I wonder how long it will take for the reality to sink in: that you are truly helpless before me." Grevious signaled for the droids to take the apprentice again.

They took him to a large, thick durasteel door. It opened with a loud whirring noise. They unshackled him and jabbed their stun batons at his side. The apprentice stumbled inside a small room with nothing but a small ribbed window. The only illumination inside the room was a series of narrow beams of light.

The apprentice splayed pathetically on the ground.

"Your master tells me that you are fond of this," said Grevious. He held up the apprentices' saberstaff. The apprentice was too weak to properly stand up, let alone try to snatch the lightsaber. He eyed his weapon longingly. With a grunt, Grevious extended his fist and crushed the weapon as if it were made of putty. The weapon crumbled into dust in front the apprentice.

"You are helpless," repeated Grevious before leaving. Once all were gone, the apprentice rushed towards the weapon remains. The hilt was crushed beyond repair. Only the four blood red synthetic remained intact; the ones that powered his plasma blades. He had created them himself when his master had taught him how to create a lightsaber. He placed them inside a pocket and took in his surroundings, trying hard not to despair. His master had left him and he was imprisoned in a durasteel cage on sine remote desert planet. He had no plan, no weapon and no power.

He was truly alone.


	6. Prison Break

Prison Break

Prison had one advantage. Stillness. The apprentice had been there for eight months; eight months in a small black box. Grevious had thought this out well. Not only had he destroyed his beloved lightsaber in front of its owner but he had created this room specifically for psychological damage. A Force-sensitive, if powerful enough, could easily break out. The apprentice was not. That powerlessness was enough to drive anyone insane and the apprentice was no exception. He had broken down after a few weeks of holding out. He had screamed and attacked droids. In despair he had hit the walls until his hands bled and deformed; only to regenerate later due to his Force powers. Grevious had kept him weakened and malnourished reducing the apprentice to a thin, grizzled version of his former self. Sunken eyes, long unkempt air and a grizzled beard – the apprentice was sure he wouldn't be able to recognize himself.

But that despair had transformed into something . . . deeper. He had simply stopped fighting and screaming. He had ceased trying to escape. He felt something awaken in him, as if he had reached a state of transcendence. Tapping into it, as if kindling a small flame, he opened his mind allowing the Force to nourish him. He felt his strength return. Having no other route to take, he meditated deeply every day, spending nearly all of his waking hours communicating with the universal power. He had opened himself up completely to the Force, letting it direct is every move, his every thought. He knew that the Force would eventually tell him exactly when and where to act. He allowed the Force to help him. And the Force responded.

On the ninth month, a resonance went off inside the apprentice. Enlightened, he knew exactly how to get out of this jail. The Force told him that now was the time to escape. The apprentice felt excited: he had grown powerful in the Force during his months of meditation and, just like he used to when he's been instructed in something new, he had looked forward to trying out the extent of his newly acquired skills. His mind still open to the influence of the Force, he sat down and patiently waited for the scheduled droids to come by.

"I just wanna see 'im. He's been starving for nearly a year. C'mon you tinker head, what's he gonna do? I wanna see this so-called Sith." The voice belonged to human. The apprentice could feel his life force behind the thick doors. He could feel the electrical pulse of the two droids behind the human.

"Hey, Sith. Don't hurt me, al'right?" taunted the guard. He let out a snort of laughter and the apprentice could hear him fumble with his belt, trying to unclip the stun baton.

The apprentice felt the Force giving him a countdown, slowly feeling the ripples of power as if he were intricate with universe. Three, Two, One. He focused on the guard first. The human was soon lifted off the ground, a large pressure around his neck. Half a second later he fell on the ground, his neck crushed beyond recognition in a bloody mess and his face etched with a horrified expression. The door opened giving the apprentice a full view of two commando droids wielding large stun batons. With a twitch of his fingers, both droids were pulled towards him. With agility, far beyond the natural, the apprentice from his position, grabbed both droids and unleashed a barrage of lightning through them. Bright red arcs of electricity, a color unlike the one which he used before his incarceration, arced around the droids. Bolts shot outside of the prison cell, illuminating the entire floor. Tossing the droids aside, he looked at the camera observing him.

"My name is not 'Sith' or 'assassin'." His voice rang with power. "I was the Sith apprentice of Darth Mortris. But that is no more. I am an agent of the Force, and the Force gave me a name. From this day forth I shall be known as Darth Wraith." He channeled lightning throughout his entire body. Sparks erupted from the walls and electronic devices exploded into smoking scraps of metal. The acrid smell of burnt silicone filled the building.

"I'm waiting for you General," he said menacingly. Darth Wraith stood still inside his cell, waiting for his jailer.


	7. Deus Ex Machina

Deus Ex Machina

General Grevious saw the destruction his prisoner had wrought and angrily slammed his fist on the control panel.

"Get every assault druid and Magnaguard up there," he yelled at the nearest machine. "It's high time I end his pathetic existence." He removed his cloak and set four lightsabers on a magnetic clip around his hip. He had no time for taunting and tactic. The cyborg was set to unleash his weapons on the Sith and strike to kill. His torture, he realized, had backfired, creating a being more powerful than the one he had imprisoned nine months ago. The General could not afford to let the Sith escape. He had to rectify his mistake.

Wraith re0entered his cell and waited, listening with the Force. In the past, his training would have told him to attack the General exploiting the element of surprise and fear of the unknown. He could have done that now, in methods he could only dream of previously. But the Force had shown him a different destiny. Grevious would die at the hands of another. His destiny was not intertwined with the cyborg's. Wraith had a different purpose in the downfall of his jailer: he would humiliate him, causing him to lose face and make further mistakes. This would render him in the state in which he would be when he would face his killer. The Force had done more: it had shown him how the Clone Wars would end. Or rather the different possibilities and outcomes. He saw a future where the Jedi emerged victorious, but be so weak what it would no longer uphold its philosophies and practices but sell out to the highest bidder. He saw a future where the Sith ruled; some areas of the universe eradicated and sundered into black holes. Others were colonized under a military rule. Death and destruction threatened the very creation of life. Whatever future he saw, they all ended the same: one side eradicating the other, only to later on eradicate itself. He sought one future; one where he saw suffering and pain, followed by peace and prosperity. To do that he had to follow a unique path and ironically, or perhaps it was destiny, his apprenticeship with Darth Mortris had given him the option to do so.

Grevious and his troops saw the Sith leaning against the wall of his cell, clearly awaiting for their arrival.

"Shoot to kill," ordered the General as he spit his arms into two and ignited a lightsaber in each. Laser shot at Wraith but not hit him. A Force barrier dissipated each shot before it could hit his person. Grevious roared in anger and took a step forward before Wraith pushed with the Force and flung the cyborg with his entire regimen backwards and out of the cell.

"What's wrong General? Can't your droids aim properly?" he taunted. Grevious lunged at him smashing his weapons against the Force Barrier. Wraith held fast and no matter the strength of the cyborgs blows, nothing could penetrate that barrier. Wraith smiled mischievously and spun to face the wall. He placed both hands on it and gave the General as small, taunting, wave.

During his months of meditation, the Force had enlightened him to various aspects of science and power. He had discovered that by simply looking at things with a different perspective, he had the potential to do the impossible. His new powers, far beyond what he had during his apprenticeship, were proof of that. He had been reborn as a man, as a being of the Force and he was eager to try out his new powers.

The bonds which held his molecular structure together loosened and slipped between the atoms of the durasteel wall. The Force Barrier slowly dissipated, but he did not require it any more. Grevious's plasma swords passed through him, his body having become intangible.

"What witchcraft is this, Sith?" cried Grevious as he watched, stunned. Wraith took as step and his body began going through the wall.

"See you on the other side General," he said before completely disappearing.

Wraith's cell was on the fourth floor of a straight building. When he phased through the wall, all that awaited him was a free fall to his death. The Sith solidified himself again and used the Force to slowly descend. After a few uncertain seconds, his bare feet gently touched solid ground again. The sun was setting and Wraith stood rooted on the spot, catching his breath, and allowing his face to soak up the warmth. For the first time in months he could truly feast his eyes upon the yellow and purple sky and the freedom that lay ahead.

"What are your orders General?" said the leading battle droid. General Grevious snapped himself back to reality and bullied his brain into action.

"Alert the ground battalion. Lock down the hangers and every access point to the facility. I want a complete lockdown of anything that can fly. Do not let him off this planet!"

Wraith was still enjoying the sunset when the first squad of droids surrounded him.

"Halt," screeched one of them. Wraith raised his hands nonchalantly, before dropping them back down. More droids kept joining the fray. Wraith did not need to hear his heavy footsteps to know that the General was approaching quickly. He could feel his turmoil from a galaxy away: his pain, anger and suffering – it was as if the cyborg was built on all things negative. Wraith could almost taste the pain that shaped the Kaleesh general into the mechanical monstrosity approaching him. He couldn't help but smile. Wraith was in total serenity with the Force and, indirectly, he had the General to thank. He no longer felt anger or fear – he didn't need them to be powerful, contrary to is Sith instruction.

"Stupid droids," yelled Grevious. "Shoot him. Kill him." The droids aimed their blasters as Wraith.

Only, Wraith has disappeared.

Wraith stumbled and fell face forward.

"He's on the roof General," he heard from behind him. A lone droid aimed a sniper blaster at the Sith and Wraith had barely scrambled behind a vent for safety. He felt weak, spent and could not stop wheezing. It was foolish to bend space over such a distance. His teleportation had left his spent, and now a droid had him at its mercy. All he could manage was a small blast of Force, which smashed against the droid's knee joint. The robot wobbled uncertainly and then simply fell over the roof. Still not believing his luck, Wraith mustered the energy to stand up.

Just one more, he thought. All he needed was one final push, one final burst of power. He could see the horizon from here: there lay freedom and he had come too far, endured too much, just to stop now. He felt his energy return and knew that he would be free today. With renewed vigor, he peered over the edge and waved at the General below.

"So long General. Thank you for your hospitality," he yelled, smiling as he saw the cyborg take his anger out on his robotic subordinates.

"Get him," he heard him yell. Wraith walked to the other side of the building before spinning and breaking into a run. Putting all his faith, feelings and his very life into the hands of the Force, Wraith leapt off the edge of the roof and soared a good ten feet into the air.

"Shoot him when he lands," ordered Grevious. But Wraith kept on soaring, until he was flying forward, away from the prison which held him for nearly a year.

"Um, Sir? He's not landing," said a droid. Grevious growled and swung his hand at the droids. Its head flew into the air and tumbled uselessly.

"I can see that!" he screamed. "Get him." But it was too late and all the cyborg could do was watch as is former prisoner flew off into the horizon.


	8. Reminiscence of a Blade

Reminiscence of a Blade

The autopilot indicated a few light-years of distance, and even with the jump to hyperspace, the remaining parsecs would require a good number of hours. That was well and good with Darth Wraith: his project required time.

By sheer coincidence, or maybe it was will of the Force, he had commandeered a supply ship full of droids parts. This was probably a maintenance ship and a supply of materials was exactly what Wraith needed. The knowledge of how to construct a lightsaber had never left him, not after all those days of research and labour General Grievous had allowed him to keep his synthetic crystals; a grave mistake on the cyborg's part. Now was to time to see whether the meditation Wraith spent on them paid off or not. They were so in tune with the Force inside Wraith that they could now be considered a part of him, his life force.

The first thing he did on the ship, right after the Hyperspace jump, was disable all monitoring devices and security droids. He tampered with two astromechs, setting them on a scavenger hunt for the parts he needed and monitoring the bridge. Wraith had things to do: he sat cross-legged in a large open room, littered with workbenches and storage closets. A pile of junk sat in front of his lap, still untouched from when the droid dumped them there. Wraith closed his eyes and the room buzzed to life. Machines whirred to life and components flew to different machines, being cut, formed and shaped to Wraith's mental designs. It took a couple of hours but the lightsaber components began taking shape, until floating around the room, orbiting one man, were two identical deconstructed lightsabers. It was nearly done: Wraith brought them hovering in front of his face and peeled his eyes open. The workman ship seemed solid enough, especially for his design. These would be a different pair from the plain old ones he'd used before. Still maintaining the sleek black design, the skeletal hilts had hints of chrome at decorative intervals. A thin filament of transparent casing ran from top to bottom on two sides, showing the inner workings of the crystal inside. This also showed energy when he channelled the Force through his weapon. It was a purely aesthetic design, similar to the intimidating and flamboyant designs of the Sith Inquisitors during the days of the Old Republic. In addition, a small chrome emitter guard now prevented his weapon from being disabled again.

He levitated the four crystals and inserted them inside their chambers, enfolding them inside the components. The crystals hummed with power when touched by Wraith's Force, and soon the constructed weapons buzzed alive, yet still unignited. He attached both hilts together into a saberstaff and settled the weapon into his hands. It felt oddly familiar, as if the final piece of the puzzle had been put in its place and he ignited the weapon. He felt warmth inside him as he gazed at the crimson blade. It was still red, albeit a slightly different hue than he remembered. He ran the Force through the weapon, a slight effort on his part given that this weapon was already an intimate part of him, and saw power running through the weapon from the transparent strips on the hilt. He smiled. His weapon was ready; it was now time to remember his training.

He centred himself and meditated with the lit blade. Eight months of prison, with not so much as a fork available, would have certainly eroded his sword skills. He was going to challenge a master swordsman, a Sith with the title "Bringer of Death". Mortris had razed entire cities and cut swathes of warriors, men, women, children and elderly. In his prime he was a lightsaber-wielding Grim Reaper. In his later years, he had enlightened himself to the Force, devolving into obscure rituals and powers. Whilst he had reduced the amount of bloodshed he created with his lightsaber, he still led entire campaigns and conquered with both sword and sorcery. At one point he had completely eradicated a moon. He was a beast, an ace up the Sith Empire's sleeve.

Wraith had decided to destroy that ace, he was going to make some really unpleasant enemies. He pushed those thoughts from his mind. He had to survive the duel first.

He felt the Centre of Being meditation take effect. He could clearly see the movements: what's more, he could feel them, his muscles remembering the strain for each move. He allowed his thoughts to wander, slowly reliving the memories of his training. He had found the first form, Chii-Sho, easy enough to master, until his master begin sparring with him, always setting the bar a little higher. He was also exposed to other styles, in hopes of creating his own fighting style. He remembered the delicate steps of Makashi and how he hated that second form. The sequences were too complicated and limited: how could such a linear form have so many twists and shifts? His master liked this form and tried, in vain, to pass on this enthusiasm on to his apprentice. His master's large build was enough to turn the usually weak strikes of Makashi into moderately powerful blows in their own right. During their sparring session the apprentice had favoured Soresu, the third and most defensive of forms, against his master's blade work. Wraith remembered the fourth form, Ataru; he had particularly enjoyed performing the acrobatics and wild strikes of the form, relishing in the power as most young apprentices do. Mortris like this form too; swooping down on opponents after cornering them. The master had been keen on instructing this form and its successor, the fifth form Shien. This was Mortris's main form of combat. He employed the Djem So subset, bringing this blade down with crushing force. The apprentice did not have the physique for this form, yet still employed Shien, alternating between the orthodox and unorthodox grip to confuse the opponent, whilst raining blows. Later on, he would go on the study the tactics of Sith Shien. The sixth form, Niman, was difficult to learn. The integration of force powers with lightsaber tactics was something Wraith had struggled with for a very long time. Aside from the very basics, he hadn't progressed much. But all this changed when he expressed an interest in the double bladed lightsaber. His master had made him practice Jar'Kai, the art of wielding dual blades, until Wraith's body developed the flexibility necessary to always employ an offence and counter offence. But it was the seventh form, Juyo, which peaked Wraith's interest most. His master had instructed him in the basic philosophy of Juyo but refused to delve deeper in his tuition of the form. According to him, Juyo practitioners relished in the baser emotions of the Dark Side and it was easy to lose one's reason and awareness in the midst of battle. And, despite common perception of the Sith, Mortris had emphasized that reason was the only way to truly grasp the philosophy of the Sith and unlock their secrets. Mortris had made his dislike for the Juyo clear and berated Wraith every time he used it during their sparring sessions. But like every other young rebel, Wraith still kept practising in secret, hiding the swift, short brutal strikes inside other forms, namely Shien and Ataru.  
He had always felt that he had never been allowed to fight at his full potential; he had thought that he could give his former master a run for his money if he had been allowed to fully delve in his own style. But he knew now, enlightened and wiser, that it was nothing but hubris. He also knew that memory alone was not going to win any battles. He had nearly a year's erosion to restore in the matter of a few hours.

The ship emerged from Hyperspace and the world of Korriban came into full view. Wraith switched off the engines and went back for a final sparring session with the assassin droid he had found on-board. This time he would fight to his full ability, and if the droid ceased to function, he would use another until he ran out of droids. As he faced his opponent, he saw every flaw in the technique and how to exploit it. He was also aware of his limitations, and used the Force to overcome them. He rushed in and the droid's stun baton clashed against his lightsaber, which was set on its lowest possible setting, enough to give it a proper shape. The weapons clashed and the proper rehabilitation began.


	9. Ride the Lightning

Ride the Lightning

He felt none of the reminiscence he thought would overcome him. This cave was something of a second home to him but Wraith didn't miss the damp, cool hole where he learnt the majority of his skills. Maybe it was his imprisonment, maybe the detachment he felt from his connection to the Force. He felt no hatred or anger; simply a sense of duty. His former master had to be removed, and that was the end of it.  
As soon as Wraith stepped inside, he felt the familiar presence of Darth Mortris, albeit his eyes did not pin point him.  
"Come on out Darth Mortris," he called, hefting his lightsaber. There was no point in deceit and dual wielding; his former master had ample experience in defeating both. Mortris emerged from the shadows, slowly appearing in Wraith's field of vision. He removed his hood, letting his black mantle flare like a sinister cloud. He was clad in bulky armor, which cut out an already impressive figure. He held his weapon at his side too: the triple emitted guard gave it a menacing appearance, one reminiscent of a butcher's tool.  
"I was concealing my presence. It is indeed impressive that you have found me," he murmured. His voice held a rumble in it like that of a feral animal.  
"I'm stronger than the last time we met," said Wraith. "Master," he added mockingly.  
"Don't be so sure, boy," snapped back the Muun.  
"My name is not 'boy'," replied the former apprentice. He channeled his power, increasing the pressure in the room and causing small tremors in the ground.  
"I am Darth Wraith."  
"You? A Darth? How dare you presume to be a Dark Lord of the Sith? You're nothing but a failed apprentice. Disappear!" roared Mortris. Filling up with rage, he unleashed a barrage of blue and purple lightning. Wraith held his ground and extended his left hand. Catching the lightning, he absorbed the electricity and unleashed his own crimson version. Mortris was not expecting a counter attack and could only reduce the damage done by the lightning. His eyes widened as he saw the red bolts arching towards him. When did his apprentice get so powerful? Wasn't he supposed to be locked away to be tortured or killed in one of Grievous's schemes? What the hell had happened during the past eight months?

Mortris retaliated with a force blast. Fighting with pure telekinetic energy would prove too consuming to Wraith, who, despite having very powerful techniques, he was not yet accustomed to their continuous use. Motris on the other hand had less complicated Force powers but could sling them around repeatedly. He had to somehow gain a tactical advantage over the Sith Lord.  
Wraith altered the angle of the blast, sending the concussive Force power up into the stone ceiling of the cavern. Cracks snaked through the rocks and debris rained down. With a little nudge from Wraith, large chunks of rock fell down. He caught them telekinetically and directed them at his opponent, flanking the Muun and crashing into him.  
At the last second Darth Mortris unleashed a Force Wave, expelling power from his entire person. The large rocks exploded into tiny fragments and created a thick smokescreen. The Sith Lord shot lightning at the rocks, charging them with electricity and hurled the missiles at Wraith as he sensed his presence with the Force now that his sight was impaired. The rocks exploded on the spot where Wraith stood, but the former apprentice was no longer there.

Mortris sensed him just in time: he ignited his lightsaber and blocked the plasma blade arcing towards his head. Pushing his assailant away Mortris put some distance between them, using the Force to speed up his pace. Wraith was breathing heavily holding aloft one side of his saberstaff. Mortris looked at the spot where his lightning grenades struck and calculated the distance between there and the spot where Wraith attacked him, from behind him. Even with the maximum power of Force Speed, no one could cross such a distance at such velocity.  
"Teleportation," he said, figuring it out. "You've discovered how to bend the folds of space." He couldn't help it; awe seemed into his voice. Wraith remained silent, still reeling from the blowback of his powers.  
"You have indeed grown," continued Mortris. "Do you have any more surprises for me?"  
The former apprentice nodded at the Muun's lightsaber. "You seem to have a few surprises yourself," he said darkly. Mortris waved his lightsaber and examined the blade.  
"This? This is a modification made especially for you, boy," relied Mortris. Instead of the usual straight red blade, the Sith Lord's weapon had a undulating weapon, giving it a flame pattern. The unstable synth crystal inside was the cause: it sent pulses of energy running through the blade, giving it the unique wave pattern. It was more prone to short out, or in some cases just explode, but Wraith thought his master was more knowledgeable to make some rookie mistake such as that. It was a weapon designed to short out lightsabers and wreck permanent damage through the victim's nervous system. A brutal weapon, befitting Darth Mortris's nature.  
"I was expecting you," said Mortris. "Ever since that incompetent cyborg reported you missing, I had a hunch that you would seek me out."  
Wraith had recovered his strength. His expression hardened and he ignited the second end of his weapon. He twirled it once and took a step forward in challenge.  
"I know every style you use, even that despicable Juyo," said Mortris through clenched teeth. "I taught you everything you know; don't presume that you can beat me!" The challenge had clearly affected the Muun, who was more used to his victims bowing and cowering before him, rather than challenge him.  
"You're not my only teacher, Mortris," replied Wraith. "The Force has enlightened me to all forms of combat."  
The Sith Lord squeezed his lightsaber, raised it and yelled "Show me!" before launching himself at his opponent.  
"Gladly," replied Wraith. Their blades clashed. Mortris launched an offensive, hitting his opponent's lightsaber wildly. Wraith's channeled the force through his weapon, giving it some degree of protection. His form slipped into the third form, taking advantage of its defensive techniques. Mortris, anticipating such a move, sidestepped past Wraith's guard. He channeled the Force into the strike and sent the double-bladed weapon flying. Seizing his chance Mortris raised his weapon, ready to cleave his former apprentice in half. He saw Wraith take a deep breath and the undulating red blade pass through Wraith's body. He did it – he had killed his former apprentice.

Mortris was not expecting a fist to his jaw. From his peripheral vision, before his world snapped black for an instance, he saw Wraith, healthy and in one piece.  
The former apprentice had used his power to turn intangible, allowing his opponent's blade the pass through him harmlessly. Once he let his guard down, Wraith punched Mortris, sending him reeling backwards. Wraith lunged and grabbed the Darth's chest plate. Using the full might of the Force, he tore it open and unleashed a Force Blast point blank at the exposed flesh. Mortris's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he was sent flying into a wall with such an impact, it shattered other portions of his armor. Wraith summoned back his weapon and unleashed a barrage of brutal strikes against his former master. Darth Mortris managed to hold him off enough to recover his wits.  
Both Dark Jedi spun acrobatically, each mirroring the other's moves, and slammed into a blade-lock. Both of them yelled, unleashing the Force through their weapons. Both lightsabers buzzed erratically as large amounts of Force energy went through them. Neither willing to concede, they doubled their efforts. As power reached critical levels, the weapons shorted out and the explosion of Force energy sent both combatants across the cave.

Both lightsaber hilts smoked, their inner components fried and bent beyond repair. Mortris was up first, bleeding from different cuts as bits of his own armor dug painfully into his skin. He tried switching on his weapon but a flurry of angry sparks bit into his hand and he threw away the weapon in anger. Resolute to kill his former apprentice, with his hands if needed, he made his way towards the downed man. Wraith had managed to scramble on his feet and held up his own weapon. Only one of the ends was damaged, leaving the other end functional. Mortris ignored the weapon pointed at him and reached out with the Force, grabbing Wraith by the neck in a Force Choke. At the same instant Wraith used the Force to wrap around Mortris's heart and crush it. Normally the Sith would not allow anyone to affect their body, breaking their grip with his superior power. But in this instance he was too weak and too deep in his anger to care about his own wellbeing, focusing all his power on choking Wraith. Simultaneously, Wraith sensed another heart beating inside the Muun, fully aware that the alien had more than one heart, and hurled his lightsaber. The red blade pierced the sending heart.

Mortris let go of his Force Choke and a gurgling sound escaped him. He swung sideways, his eyes no longer focused. Before he fell, Wraith lunged forward, gripped the hilt of his weapon and allowed the fallen Dark Lord to slide off the plasma blade. Darth Mortris fell lifeless on the ground.


	10. Turn Coat

Turn Coat

For the first time in months, he was nervous. The right thing for a Sith like him would have been to use his power to control and destroy. He could track down the Sith controlling Grievous and make him pay. He would be night unstoppable.

But that was not the will of the Force.

He had chosen his path: that of balance. He had evolved into an avatar of the Force, not just a Sith. True, those were his origins but his enlightenment showed him the one thing which Mortris had promised but could never deliver: harmony. Wraith yearned for more harmony, drawn to it like a moth to flame. He relished in the peace and power: not separate, but both being one thing. He sought harmony and the Force provided it.

From his position he could see the two clone troopers scouting ahead with mine detectors. A battle had taken place here recently and it was routine to check for leftover traps. They checked on the dead clones scattered around, checking for survivors. Wraith had to approach them, to say something, to seek council with the Jedi. He wouldn't surrender; maybe pretend to be an innocent bystander and influence their thoughts. Although that would never work on a Jedi worth his salt.

As his senses wondered about, seeing the energy that no detector could pick up in time.

"TRAP!" he yelled at the top of his voice. The clones readied their weapons at him. But before either party could move, the battle ground shook and massive crab droids erupted from the ground.

"Bombs," yelled the leader pointing at the booby traps strapped to the droids. They began retreating toward a hill where Wraith sensed were other troopers camped. But the two scouts were too far behind to fully avoid the blast. Their comrades could only watch from safety as they were thrown into the air, their white armour half shattered with the blast. Fire spread all around them, incinerating everything, and everyone, in sight.

The clones felt a large pressure around their necks and the world snapped black as if someone had flipped off a switch. Wraith teleported in the midst of the clone camp holding the two clones by the scruffs of their necks. Force gripping their necks as they were blasted off the ground had proved incredibly difficult to coordinate, and teleporting behind them and back to the camp had taken a lot out of him. He dropped the clones down and doubled over. He felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. The clones at the camp all snapped their weapons at him, their training taking over.

"Tend to the wounded," he said extracting his lightsaber and igniting both ends.

"Sith,"barked the Captain who extracted twin blaster pistols. But he found himself speaking to no one, as Wraith was no longer there.

The clone captain ordered the medical droids for the scouts although he could judge by the severity of their wounds that they weren't likely to survive the day. He turned his visor towards the battlefield. He saw a figure clad in worn dark robes and an unkempt appearance, wielding a lightsaber with two blades opposite each other. The Sith dashed from droid to droid, leaving only a slight trail of crimson wherever he swung his weapon.

"Is it a Sith, Sir?" asked the clone closest to the captain. The clone too was peering through his visor as well. The Captain pondered on that for a second. This Sith had saved two of his men. Yet Sith were the very personification of deceit.

"I don't know Corporal. Whatever it is, it's fast," he finally said. Lowering his visor, the captain gave an order to his subordinate.

"Contact General Kenobi. They're the only ones who can deal with whatever this is."

Droids fell easy to his lightsaber. The real trick was avoiding the explosive blast and shrapnel. He cut down the final droid and spun at the faint beeping sound. A rocket spat out from one of them and headed straight for the camp. Wraith bent space again, teleporting at a point where he would intercept the incoming missile. With huge concentration, he sent out a blast of condensed wind, hitting the rocket. It spiralled in mid-air and exploded shot of its mark, showering the troops below with bits of scalding debris. Wraith stumbled forward, the world spinning.

This time they noticed him immediately amongst them.

"Don't move," ordered the first clone trooper. Wraith simply raised his lightsaber, holding the blade horizontally and with an exaggerated display, he deactivated his weapon and attached it to his belt. All soldiers held their weapons steady, unsure whether to shoot to kill or arrest him. Smiling at the soldiers, he raised both his hands innocently.

The medic droids sent out a flurry of beeps, indicating their patients, the two scouts, were on the verge of death. Wraith took one step towards them only yo have half a dozen commandos yell 'Freeze!' simultaneously.

"Get out of my way you fools. I can heal them," said Wraith still walking towards the injured. The clones did not warm a second time. They squeezed their triggers, shooting down the Sith. Only, their laser bolts never reached him.

He erected a Force barrier around him, deflecting anything approaching his person. The dome surrounded him like a force field, absorbing and dissipating any laser bolts. He kneeled down between the injured, his Force powers extending to cover the injured clones. At this point, the clones ceased shooting and just watched in frustration. Wraith placed a hand on their chests and channelled the Force.

"Level of trauma: critical," uttered the droids. As the Force flowed through them, the wounds on the clones healed and they slowly regained consciousness.

"Level of trauma: severe."

Moments later the same monotone voice said "Level of trauma: moderate. Critical condition avoided. Patients are stabilized." The droids confirmed the actions of Wraith. Seeing this, the leader of the clone motioned for his troops to lower their weapons and aid the scouts. Wraith dissolved the Force barrier and remained stationery, trying to regain his strength. Unless he rested soon, he would black out and possibly fall into a coma. He felt like jelly and his eyes couldn't focus properly.

At least he had accomplished his task: the Force had given him enough strength for that. He felt obliged to saves the scouts' lives, as if they were some form of atonement for the people he killed as a Sith. It felt good to help preserve life rather than take it. Perhaps this was the key to a higher power. Whatever it was, Wraith felt serenity deep in his heart and that was worth the pain he felt now due to over exhaustion.

Taking a deep breath, he suddenly felt great danger behind him.

"General Skywalker," he heard one of the troops say. Sensing more accurately, he inclined his head and the tip of a blue lightsaber quivered very close to his ear.

"Do not move," came a menacing voice from behind.


	11. Passive Aggressive Negotiations

Passive Aggressive Negotiations

Wraith slowly stood up, his hand tentatively in the air. As he turned around, minding the lightsaber quivering at his throat, he eyed the tousled brown haired Jedi. As he gazed into his eyes, Wraith remembered a vision he experienced in jail – but it depicted this man in a twisted malefic version of himself, clad in black armour. A dark Jedi plagued by guilt, anger and suffering. How could such a noble heart sway so deep into the Dark Side? Should he strike this Jedi down and prevent years of suffering?

"Anakin, hold him steady," came a voice behind the young Jedi. An elder Jedi with a lighter complexion and sporting a thick beard followed up, his eyes cautious.

"I am not your enemy," said Wraith, eyeing back the elder Jedi.

"You're Sith." The voice belonged to a third Jedi, a young Togruta female, who moved impatiently on the spot clearly itching for a fight. "That makes you our enemy."

"I _was_ Sith," said Wraith. "That _made_ me your enemy," he told the young Jedi sweetly.

"And you expect us to take you on your word?" asked the elder Jedi.

"Not quite. But I'll have you note that I have just saved your platoon twice and healed two of its members. Whereas you are holding a lightsaber to my throat despite my telling you that I mean no harm."

"Trickery," spat the first Jedi. Anakin. Wraith took a deep breath and stepped through the blue lightsaber. His body's structure became intangible and the weapon passed harmlessly through his body. He kept walking until he stood face to face from the elder Jedi. Clearly he was the leader here, or at least with something akin to diplomatic mind.

"Master Jedi," he said calmly. From his peripheral vision he saw the younger Jedi moving in, both of them holding a lightsaber. Wraith flicked his hands across his chest, sending both Jedi flying backwards.

"Whilst it is clear that none of you can harm me," continued Wraith, "it is clear that the same cannot be said for me." Wraith extended his arm, his hand clear in view.

"So how about we start over. Civilly, this time."

The elder Jedi motioned for the clones to lower their weapons and stop the other Jedi from assaulting Wraith.

"What is your name Sith?" he said. Both men shook hands and then let go hastily.

"Tell me your name Jedi, and I'll tell you mine," said Wraith.

"Obi-wan Kenobi," said the Jedi. "And you, Darth?"

"Wraith," said Wraith. "The 'Darth' is merely a tool."

"What do you want? Why the courtesy?" asked Kenobi.

"I wish to speak to your Grandmaster. I want an audience with the highest ranking Jedi."

"You're insane!" exclaimed Anakin. "We can't bring a Sith to the Temple."

Wraith turned and looked the young Jedi dead in the eye. He felt a lull in his eyes, as in sating down a kaleidoscope: Wraith could see deep within this Jedi: his identity, skill, potential, power . . . and his destiny. Wraith had no control over whatever was happening – it was as if the Force within Wraith reacted with the Force inside the Jedi: like two ends of a power cell creating a current.

Both men remained frozen on the spot, their eyes interlocked.

"Master?" said the female Jedi tentatively. "Master? Are you OK?" She lit her lightsaber and assumed a fighting stance.

"What are you doing to him?" she snarled at Wraith. That was when Anakin snapped out of it and halted her.

"It's OK, Ahsoka," he said. "I don't know what happened," he continued, still glaring at Wraith. "But I don't think he means any harm. Not even sure he is Sith."

"I told you, didn't I?" stated Wraith as he opened his arms. "I am quite unique. Not dissimilar to you, Anakin Skywalker."

The Jedi's eyes darkened. "You know my name," he growled through clenched teeth. "But all I know is your alias. Wraith. What is your real name?"

"I don't have one," replied Wraith. "I was raised in the Dark Side, trained to become an assassin for the Sith. I have no name, no identity. I am just a wraith, a remnant."

Obi-Wan spoke next. "So what changed?"

"Illumination," replied Wraith sweetly.

"Illumination?" echoed Kenobi. "Hardly. Enlightenment is a higher echelon Light Side power."

"I am as confused as you are, Master. It's part of why I seek an audience with your Grandmaster."

"What's the other reason?"

"I have information on the Sith Lords."

"We already know of Count Dooku and his backers," said Ahsoka.

"Good for you," replied Wraith. "Did you know of a Darth Mortris too?" he asked mockingly.

"And who would that be?" asked Kenobi.

"My former master. A Sith Lord, hidden deep underground and brought out only to deal with remote civilizations. Have you noticed how various systems in the Outer Rim slowly turned Separatist? That was my master, doing the job of an army nearly singlehandedly," replied Wraith.

"And where is the Master now?" asked Kenobi, somewhat mockingly.

"Dead."

"How convenient," muttered Skywalker.

"It is. I killed him. You'll find his lair on Korriban."

"And if I don't believe you?" challenged Skywalker.

"Then I couldn't care less," said Wraith with a shrug. "I simply need to speak to the Grandmaster. I would like to offer my services and information to the Jedi Council. Your call now Master Kenobi."

The two locked eyes for a full minute. The only sounds were the hum of Anakin's lightsaber and the minute clicks of metal and polymers from the clones as they stood there, weapons at the ready.

Kenobi let out a long breath. "Fine. I'll take you to the Temple. Do not expect and audience. Or a warm welcome."


	12. Sonic Subterfuge

Sonic Subterfuge

"We're here." The shuttle landed in front of the entrance, just at the edge of the Stairs of Trial. The Temple entrance was a large bronzium door flanked by four colossal statues; Jedi etched in marble.

Kenobi was the first off the shuttle. Wraith shielded his eyes from the sun and turned to gaze at the Temple. A long, wide plaza stretched for a kilometre, like a giant corridor leading Force Adepts from the Stairs to the entrance of the Temple.

Kenobi held Wraith back, preventing him from going along the plaza towards the Temple. The Clone Troopers remained on the ship: they were only a team of eight since Kenobi decided to take a small team and escort Wraith himself to the Temple. He ordered Anakin and Ahsoka to regroup with another Clone legion and continue with their campaign.

Wraith halted, awaiting Kenobi's commands. His hands still stung from the energy cuffs. When he had been bound the first time, he simply phased through them, much to the trooper's frustration. This went on for two more attempts to restrain Wraith, until the former Sith stated that he'll comply to being disarmed but not restrained. He assured Kenobi that there is no way he would allow anyone to bind him and there was nothing they can do about it. He would be civil but not a prisoner. Kenobi had confiscated his double-bladed lightsaber and yielded.

He stood beneath the warm Coruscant sun, rubbing his wrists softly. Phasing through energy still hurt a little. More practice was needed. A small battalion of Jedi marched towards them.

"Why is he not bound?" The lead man was blonde with his tan robes billowing. "Master Kenobi, is this the Sith you spoke of?"

Wraith took a single step, smiled and extended his hand. "Former Sith. My name is Wraith, Master Jedi."

The lead man glared at him and whipped out his lightsaber. A purple plasma blade quivered at the nape of Wraith's neck.

"Is he Sith?" he snarled at Kenobi.

"Yes, Master Vane, but-"

"Why is he here?"

"He seeks council with Master Yoda. He claims to have information about Sith. His actions helped save a legion of Clones," answered Kenobi.

"Then he should be incarcerated, put on trial and interrogated for a negotiation," replied Vane sternly. "No one is allowed an audience with the Grand Master."

Wraith closed his eyes and let out a long breath. This Jedi was not going to allow him an audience; no Jedi would. They would probably think he had manipulated Kenobi's mind and forced him to take him to Coruscant. The protocol was incarceration and processing; it could be too late by then. He could understand the security measures and the rules.

That didn't mean he would accept them.

The Jedi Masters were the first to hear it. A faint tune, like a subsonic whistle, emerged from Wraith's lips. The tone resonated with every living being, distorting their senses. Kenobi reached for his lightsaber but his movements were too sluggish. Vane, his suspecting mind expecting foul play, lurched forward, driving the tip of his lightsaber into Wraith's throat. Wraith fully expected such a move and unleashed a burst of Force from his body. Vane, Kenobi, the accompanying Jedi and the shuttle containing the Clones were thrown backwards. The purple tip lightly grazed Wraith's neck, leaving a thin scar along the left side. Vane and his Jedi were thrown as far as the four gargantuan statues and squashed into a heap. Kenobi was thrown against the right wall, hitting his head and falling unconscious. A trickle of blood trailed from his skull. The Force Wave was so powerful that the shuttle moved backwards and tipped over. It slid down the Stairs of Trial, loosing wings and thrusters. The Stairs themselves were chipped and cracked, deforming into a small pile of debris wherever the shuttle slid down. The Clones had extracted their grapples and rappelled off the shuttle, which continued to slide and tumble down the Stairs unencumbered.

Wraith grasped the Force within him and channelled his power. The earth shook and the atmosphere itself seemed to tremble. It was a show of power. He knew that the Grandmaster rarely left the Temple: if Wraith couldn't go to him, he had to draw the Grandmaster out. He will show where he is and let the Jedi come.

And if he had to fight every simple Jedi at the Temple until he was faced only with the Grandmaster Yoda, then so be it.


	13. Temple Rumble

Temple Rumble

They floated out of the Temple like ants. Jedi, in an assortment of robes and lightsabers, ran out and soon the plaza was a mass of colourful blades and different lifeforms. There was a large number of masked warriors in tan and brown, a mask covering their features. They carried yellow lightsaber pikes consisting of two short thick blades humming menacingly.

Wraith held his ground. He flexed his fingers and bent to folds of space. His lightsaber, still clipped to Kenobi's belt, was sucked inside a small vortex and materialized back in the hands of its owner. He twisted on the hilt, separating it into twin lightsabers and ignited the red blades in challenge as the small Jedi army approached. The crystals inside the hilts glowed with the Force, reading Wraith's intentions. The blades dulled despite not losing any of their intensity. He wanted to defeat them but not kill them. It would look bad if he were to mass murder the entire Jedi Temple. He needed the audience with the Grandmaster if he were to follow the destiny shown to him by the Force.

The first blade swooped down for his head. He sidestepped, deflecting with a parry and smacked the Jedi at the back of the knee. The crimson blade was coated in the Force, vastly diluting its cutting power. When the blade struck, it left nothing permanent save a searing burn and paralysis in the limb. The Jedi cried out, his knee dislocated. Wraith bent his body, ducking under a green lightsaber and bludgeoned the new assailant on his head. He spun, lifting his leg. A third Jedi caught the heel of Wraith's foot in his jaw and slumped down. A trio crashed down on him. Wraith managed to block their blades and struggled in a brutal blade-lock. As he was driven down, Wraith noticed others ganging up on him. With a burst of power, he threw the blade-lock and spun low. His blades met their leg, sending them down. He threw one saber at a charging Jedi, stopping him in his tracks, cut down another, retrieved his blade and smashed both hilts against the first Jedi's head. He Force pushed a group, sending them sprawling into each other.

Slowly the Temple Guard encircled him. The more Jedi Wraith fought, the tighter the circle became until Wraith found himself surrounded by a dozen of masked Jedi wielding double-bladed pikes. Uniformly they assumed a fighting stance, acting as one. Wraith roamed in their minds but their will acted as one, providing one solid mental barrier. Wraith knew that his lightsaber skills, albeit great, could not match theirs – not when they acted as one effective machine.

Wraith switched off his lightsabers and held his hands up in surrender. In a heartbeat, he unleashed a Force wave, sending the Temple Guard reeling backwards. The elite team of Jedi managed to absorb the damage from the blow but it still sent them backwards. They were in the process of using the Force to halt their direction and attack Wraith.

Above one guard loomed a shadow and Wraith's elbow crashed down on the masked head. Appearing next to another, he slammed his fist against the guard's skull and teleported to hit a third in the chest. The exchange took a second; but in the space of heartbeat Wraith had disabled three of the Temple Guard elite. Teleporting once more, Wraith ignited his lightsabers and brought them both down on a fourth guard.

A small green figure crashed into the guard, throwing him from under Wraith's weapons. It ignited a small green blade, a shoto, and blocked the twin red blades. Groaning under strain, it raised a small three fingered hand and Force pushed. The blast threw Wraith away, sending the former Sith flying. Wraith twisted and applied the Force to his body. He slowed down and doubled his efforts. He launched himself back across the distance, rocketing towards the green figure. The small figure raised both hands and yelled. Wraith slammed against the Force barrier and was sent reeling. Coughing and clenching his blades tightly, Wraith managed to get up to one knee.

"Enough!" The phrase contained enough power to shudder Wraith. He felt the Force power behind the word and, despite his defences, he found himself pausing. The little green figure hefted a cane and hobbled over to him.

"Wanting to see me, are you?" it asked. Wraith, from his crouched position stood at eye level with this creature. He felt power emanating from it, like the soft waves of a vast ocean.

"Grandmaster of this Temple, I am."


	14. Future Deliberations

Future Deliberations

"Ah." Master Yoda hobbled around, exhibiting rare restlessness. He finally settled down.

"Most interesting your story is."

Wraith sat cross-legged at the very centre of the council chambers. He clasped his hands together, taking extra care not to make any sudden movements. He unrestrained the Force within him, allowing the Master Jedi inside the chambers to fully sense his powers. No secrets or deception: just bare naked truth.

After the altercation at the Temple entrance, Wraith had been escorted to the Council Chambers. He had surrendered his weapon to Master Yoda; "for the sake of civility," he explained. It now hovered in a magnetic cell. None of the other Council members were happy about this: in fact, hostility lingered like a foul stench. When Yoda bade him to begin, Wraith bowed to each member present. He then sat down, making sure to put his hands in full view and finally settled down cross-legged. His movements were slow and deliberate; not that it mattered. They could sense his power and how vast it was.

Once they settled down, and the conspicuous Temple Guard settled themselves on the outside of the chambers, surrounding it like ants to a farm, Wraith began his tale. He relied to them everything, from his past as a Sith assassin, to the commando mission against Grievous to his prison sentence. He divulged the details of his enlightenment to Yoda, looking the small green creature dead in the eye.

Finally it was Mace Windu who posed the most pending question with very little tact.

"What do you want?"

Wraith took a deep breath. It was now or never.

"Your backing. I will divulge every bit of information I know. But we both know that even with that knowledge, the Republic army is spread too thin to deal with the insurgents I speak of. There are other Sith, still in hiding, and I ask to deal with them."

A collective look of confusion and perplexity flashed through the collective members.

"You want to 'deal' with them?" repeated Windu.

"Yes." The simple reply seemed to infuriate the Jedi Master even more. His eyes darkened when he replied.

"The Sith are a Jedi matter. We do not entrust our forces to anyone other than the Jedi. Especially not to a former Sith with a very questionable story and training in deceit."

"Yes, my story is unbelievable," repaid Wraith. "But I do not seek your forces. I have seen the future. All of them in fact." He looked every master in the eye. "In some I saw victory; in others, terror. But the Sith I speak of are in none. I must pave the way for the Clone Wars to run their course and let destiny take its due. I seek to restore balance to your universe."

He spoke directly to Windu. "And I am the only one who can do it."

"Are you saying that only you are powerful enough?"

"Yes." Wraith paused. "You have all felt my power. Saw first-hand demonstration of it. That was just a fraction of what I shall unleash on those who seek to upturn balance."

"Sources to spare, we have not." Master Yoda's voice cut through the tension.

"I do not seek your resources, Master," replied Wraith. "I am merely telling you what to expect from me." He uncrossed his legs aand placed his feet firmly on the ground. "I will seek out these Sith and eliminate them. With or without your approval."

Silence rang in the chambers when Wraith finished. He placed both hands on his knees and leaned forward, as in to challenge any Jedi to speak. They all remained silent.

"Very well," he said. "It seems that coming here was futile after all." He rose from his seat and half the council members, including Windu, did the same.

"You do not honestly think that we will allow a Sith, even an allegedly reformed one, to leave this place do you?" asked Windu menacingly. Wraith turned his back to him and extended an arm towards the magnetic lock holding his lightsaber. Using the Force, the apparatus short circuited and the weapon zoomed into his awaiting hand.

Chaos erupted as every member, save Yoda who sat calmly on his chair, reached for their own weapon. The door hissed open and Temple Guards flooded the chamber, their pikes unignited, but at the ready.

"Perhaps to an agreement, we can come." Yoda's words had power in them. Everyone halted their movements, speaking only with their gazes.

"Wraith," continued Yoda as his chair unhinged and he hovered about on a circular cushioned disk. "Our resources you do not need, yes?" he asked Wraith as he hovered around him.

"Yes," replied Wraith as he eyes the Jedi surrounding him and their weapons.

"And no resources we have to give you, yes?"

"Yes."

"Then we are in agreement," said Yoda with a laugh.

"It seems your council disagrees, Master Yoda," replied Wraith. Yoda let out a chuckle.

"Because see what I see, they do not. Master Windu," said the elderly Jedi as he addressed his partner. "Find no objection to eliminate Sith you do not."

"That is true, Master Yoda," replied Windu.

"But not your duty to the Jedi Order it is, yes?"

"That is also correct, Master Yoda."

"Then no objection to Wraith doing it do you not have?"

"I do not trust Sith. Not to mention the issue of teams. We do not have the manpower for such a task."

"Trust him I do not. But believe that he can -do it, I do. A team we do not have, but a ship we can spare."

"How will that be of any help?" asked Windu.

"It will, if his own team he can find."

The Council fell silent.

"An interesting idea," said Wraith. "I shall operate like a Jedi Shadow of the Old Republic. But with my own crew members of non-Jedi. Now that I think about it, it is the perfect Shadow tactic. You still employ Shadows do you not?"

"Eliminated the need for them was." Master Yoda looked away. "Bad decisions, even great minds make."

"Then allow me the luxury of a ship and some time to meditate on my destination, and I shall come back with results," said Wraith.

"More than that I shall give, if more than that I wish to receive," said Yoda. "Like you, I do. Think you are evil, I do not. Misguided in the past you were. But sought redemption on your own you have. A great quality that is, greater than shown by most Jedi it is. More than a ship and time I shall give you. Help you seek balance, I shall. Teach you that way of the Light, I will."


	15. Stairway to Heaven

Stairway to Heaven

Lessons with Yoda consisted of philosophical discussions about the various Force powers and methodologies. Both warriors would sit in a study, perhaps sharing a beverage, and they would talk for hours. Once, the Grandmaster had taken him to a garden on Courscant where Wraith spent an afternoon feeding birds and petting animal life-forms: those docile enough to be considered friendly. It had been an illuminating experience for the former Sith. For the first time in his life he experienced beauty: the simplistic beauty of non-sentient life-forms. Companions which were capable of mindless loyalty and never experienced hatred. He learnt that it wasn't the universe that was violent. This was merely the result of a few individuals which spread their hate and anger like a disease. Without knowing, Wraith's philosophy shifted: from a lost Sith to a Jedi.

But his stay at the Temple was not just for philosophical lessons. Wraith would occasionally be given space to meditate on his next course of action. It took some coaxing but finally the Force illuminated him.

"I see a planet coated in the Force," he told the Jedi Council once it had convened again. "Some Light, some Dark, but the entire world is a nexus of power."

"What is it you seek?" asked Mace Windu.

"A female. A powerful one." Wraith paused. "The entire gender is powerful, more so than their male counterparts. I believe the natives are matriarchal."

Windu nodded towards a Jedi close to him, who stood up, opened a storage cabinet and handed Wraith a smooth orb.

"This is an updated galactic catalogue. Place it on the pedestal and identify the planet," instructed Windu. Wraith followed his directions and soon the chambers darkened as the projection filled the room with and interactive map of the galaxy. Wraith paced around and finally pointed at a cluster.

"Here," he said. He heard Obi-Wan Kenobi groan. The holographic image vanished as the assistant Jedi retrieved the orb.

"What?" Wraith directed to Kenobi.

"The planet you identified is Dathomir," he replied. "The planet is run by the females, who are divided into clans. All of them are powerful Force adepts."

"I still do not see the problem," replied Wraith. "Dathomirian witches never leave their planet and those who do are heavily involved with the Sith," explained Kenobi. "Darth Maul and Savage Oppress were both Dathomirian males. But the most dangerous is Asajj Ventress, a witch and Dooku's former apprentice."

"Former?"

"He betrayed her, as is his nature. But she survived. Our sources tell us that she is a bounty hunter now."

"Perhaps she is the one I seek," said Wraith.

"For your sake I hope not," muttered Kenobi.

"Whatever the case I need to follow the path shown to me by the Force," said Wraith. "I will go to Dathomir. I have to see where the clues will lead me."

"Agree I do," said Yoda. "Focus on an individual, wise it is not. If Ventress you seek, find her you shall. But your answers the planet holds, not the individual. To Dathomir you must go. Assemble your team you must. Reach a climax the Clone Wars will soon."


	16. Welcome in Webs

Welcome in Webs

He entered the atmosphere of Dathomir after much effort. The entire planet was hidden in the Force, repelling utterly everything. The power swirling around the planet – no, the power that emerged from the planet – required Wraith to force his way through. Coating his ship in the Force, he had finally made it through and cruised gently within the stratosphere. The gravitational pull took effort and the autopilot indicated the trajectory for landing. Wraith took the controls, doing his best to follow the trajectory.

The storm came out of nowhere. Dark grey clouds formed around the ship, obscuring Wraith's vision. The entire ship shuddered. Thunder rumbled, causing every inch of the aircraft to vibrate. The controls slipped out of Wraith's control and the ship's instruments went crazy. The ship spiralled out of control. Wraith felt himself spin and he no longer could figure out which side was up, down, left or right. He saw a flash of light and remembered the day his shuttle was destroyed by Mortris's lightning. That had led to his imprisonment. This was a planet run by warring witch clan. Wraith cursed his luck and hoped that this was part of the universe's plan for him. Either way, he was not a fan of this plan.

Wraith was unconscious long before his ship crashed in the valley. He came to when the remnants of the vessel was in complete stillness. He heard something creaking close to him. 'You're in a wreckage. At least it's creaking, not an explosion,' he thought. Slowly he got feeling back in his body and moved his extremities. No waves of pain: nothing broken save his only means back home.

He heard the creaking again and felt something solid begin pressing on his chest. His eyes focused and an ugly head filled his vision; four sets of eyes and a pair of pincer-like fangs filled its head. The spider was as wide as Wraith and weighed as much as he did.

It was the shock and sheer horror more than instinct, which took over him. Lightning arced all over his body, electrocuting the giant arachnid. A horrid smell of burnt fluids wafted throughout the air. Wraith's stomach nearly turned and thanked the stars that he wasn't fully functional. With a look of revolt he Force pushed the beast away and managed to stand up. He heard a hiss and saw the spider service itself, its fangs clicking menacingly. It launched itself at Wraith. His fingers wrapped around his lightsaber and, with a swift motion, bifurcated the spider.

'It managed to resist the Force,' thought Wraith. His lightsaber would serve him well against these creatures. Still clutching his weapon wearily, he made it out of the wreckage. His ears picked up slight clicking and his body reacted. His lightsaber sliced into a spider, this one larger than its cousin. He heard multiple clicks and saw a large black spider emerge in view. His stomach sank – he was surrounded by giant arachnids, each more menacing than its neighbour.

He twisted his weapon, separating it into twin weapons. The spiders sensed the challenge and commenced their assault. Wraith felt his body shift from one stance to another, felling one spider after the next.

He noticed a figure hiding between the boulders and large spider legs. It wore dark clothing and dark hair whipped around it. Wraith sliced his way closer towards the figure. He heard it hiss and croak. A large spider, probably half as large as his entire ship, leapt towards him. Undeterred, Wraith slipped under it, slicing its legs. The creature buckled down and its head cracked on the ground. Wraith levitated a large boulder and released it on its head. The strange humanoid creature leapt forward. A glint of silver caught Wraith's eye. His red plasma blade met an undulating knife. Wraith observed the creature. She was a female Witch garbed in sashes and leathers. She wore skirting pants, billowing around her legs. Amulets of spiders covered her body and every inch of her arms, chest, neck and head was marked with tattoos of spider webs. She snarled, revealing blackened gnarled teeth and yellow eyes, indicating the Dark Side. She crouched and a second undulating knife appeared in her hand. She attached ferally, using quick attack-and-retreat tactics. 'Just like a spider,' thought Wraith. His swordsmanship skills were greater and, after parrying her second lunge, he snapped a blade and beheaded her.

He closed his eyes and sighed in relief. Quiet rang once more.

"Sister." The voice echoed from all over the valley.

"You shall pay for harming our sister." They appeared from everywhere: riding behemoth spiders, popping from holes in the ground and emerging from nowhere. Wraith raised his weapons. He decided he didn't like Dathomirian Witches, especially the ones who wanted to kill him for no apparent reason.


	17. Wrangled Wraith

Wrangled Wraith

Warrior females popped out of every crevice like a colony of insects. Other, namely those carrying bows and missiles, aimed their weapons at Wraith. Leaping into the fray, he overwhelmed the first warriors before the rest got wise to his tactics. Arrows made of pure energy rained down on him. Wraith put up a barrier with the Force, and tried to take cover. Two warriors breeched his barrier, infiltrating it with their own powers. Wraith was stuck fighting them, at the same time holding his Force Barrier strong against the projectiles.

Ducking low, he dropped the barrier. The arrows pierced the warriors and slew them. Wraith rendered his body intangible. As the projectiles passed through his body, Wraith felt pain shooting through his body. There were no markings or damage to his body: the arrows were made from the Force and designed to damage Force adepts. Wraith felt someone sneak behind him. A witch emerged behind him, like a feral ghoul. Her halberd sliced at Wraith. Despite being intangible, Wraith's senses warned him to dodge. Something about that weapon made him weary of it. He rolled to the side and felt a sharp biting pain at his side. His body solidified again as he sprawled on the ground. Blood oozed from his side, where the blade of the witch's polearm sliced at his hip. Wraith crouched and felt a throbbing pain in his head. The world begun spinning.

Poison.

The weapon must have been poisoned. The witch moved in for the kill. Wraith found the strength to block and Force Pushed. The witch was thrown backwards. Pain shook Wraith's body as he cradled his wound. With an effort, he readied himself to teleport away, at least for enough to recuperate. He warped space and felt his body shift. But before he fully escaped, he felt the Force binding him to the ground. Witches surrounded him. Each witch took a Force grip on Wraith, binding his limbs and movement. Their spell numbed his body and mind. Wraith felt his connection to the Force waver. He had no defences against spells and magic.

They forced him down, eagle spread. The area around him shimmered and gasses erupted. 'Energies of the spells,' thought Wraith. He was completely helpless.

A witch, more intricately dresses in leathers and amulets than her sisters, mounted off her giant spider and leapt off of it. She twirled a wicked looking spear and pointed it at Wraith's throat. The sun glinted off the tip. For the first time in a long while, Wraith felt fear. Fear of certain death. The witch smiled and the spear descended.


	18. Girl Power

Girl Power

Wraith closed his eyes, awaiting the spear to end his life.

"Spider sister." The yell echoed throughout the valley, halting every living this there. Wraith craned his neck towards the source of the sound.

She was a tall warrior dressed in red and yellow. Orange sashes were around her thin waist. Pendants hung from it. She wore a corset of red leather. Her weapon was a long halberd with a wickedly curved axe. She wore a red bandana and her dark hair hung around her shoulder and down her back and breasts. Her yellow pants billowed and were tucked inside her brown boots. A light violet serpentine symbol was painter across her face but it did not obscure her beautiful angular features. Wraith locked eyes with her large purple eyes and felt a lump on his throat despite the spell pinning him down.

"This is our prey," croaked the Witch with the spear at his throat. "Get your own, Mountain Clan wench."

The new witch raised her weapon. From all around them, emerging form the cliffs and canyon peaks, witches wearing red and yellow emerged. Some rode rancors whilst others were on foot. But they all stood tall and proud aiming bows at the black clad witches. Arrows of pink energy quivered as the witches drew them with disciplined and practiced ease.

"You know our methods by now," said the first witch. "This is the only warning. Leave with your lives whilst you still have them."

The black witch chuckled. "You do not want to start an open war between the Spiderclan and the Singing Mountain clan. Go back little –"

Before she could finish her sentence, the beautiful witch hefted her weapon and threw it at the Spiderclan witch. The halberd shot into the witch, impaling her and throwing her backwards. The rest of the Spiderclan tensed up and gazed in horror as their leader got slain in front of their eyes.

"Anyone else have a complaint?" called out the beautiful witch. The Spiderclan witches remained silent. "Good. You have two choices: fight and die, or run back to which ever crevice you crawled out from."

Most of them ran from it but a few remained. Leading the escapees were the first witches who assaulted Wraith. He should have known: bullies always run in the face of adversity. Five of the remained.

"We cannot return without our quarry," said one of them. "Our matriarch will kill us in punishment." They raised their weapons.

The beautiful witch raised her arm. "Have it your way." Arrows flew. Four of the witches were like porcupines; their bodies a pin cushion for the arrows. The spokeswoman managed to shield herself.

"You hide behind archers. Face me you coward," she screamed at the beautiful witch. The Spiderclan witch swung a curved sword horizontally at the other witch.

Calmly, the Singing Mountain witch stepped into the strike, grabbed the Spiderclan witch's wrists and twisted. The Spider witch spun and landed painfully on her back. The Mountain Witch held the sword close to her body with her left hand and extended her right. She channelled the Force and squeezed the Spider witches' neck. The beautiful witch Force Choked her opponent and lifted her off the ground. Her victim struggled in vain. The beautiful witch flicked her wrist and the Spiderclan witch's neck snapped. The beautiful witch threw her carelessly along with the sword. She walked towards Wraith who, albeit free from the Spiderclan's spell, remained stunned on the ground. He was mesmerized by the Singing Mountain witch's beauty and power.

She retrieved her weapon, extracting it from the first witch's corpse. Then she pulled Wraith's weapon with the Force and examined it.

"Our matriarch would like an audience with you, outsider," she said as she pocketed his weapon in her sash. Her tone of voice had changed completely. She spoke with a gentle voice but there was no doubt of her power. Her eyes locked into his and they stood like that for a while. Her purple eyes made his heart beat and his face warm. This sensation was new to him and he wasn't sure he liked it. It confounded him. 'This merits more observation,' he thought as he stood up.

Her halberd twirled and the blade quivered centimetres from his neck.

"Please follow us without any trickery."

Wraith's expression hardened. This was the second time a woman threatened to behead him. He was starting to think that every conversation with a female involved mortal danger.

"Keep your hands where I can see them," she said. Wraith smirked slyly.

"Anything in particular you'd like me to do with them?" he said. She blushed and pressed her blade.

"As if you could handle me," she muttered as they began walking and other witches joined them. Wraith smirked. He liked her, he decided.


	19. Feed Me with a Kiss

Feed me with a Kiss

"Welcome outsider." The Singing Mountain Matriarch poured him some tea in his cup. She was older than the rest of her clan, but unlike her other Matriarch contemporaries, she retained her usual radiance. Despite her apparent age she was still precise and graceful: in face, to Wraith she looked exactly like an aged version of his saviour.

On his march back to their village, Wraith had reverted back to his usual self. Pushing his newly arisen feelings aside, he immersed himself in the Force, seeing things for what they were. He saw two things: the first that this clan of witches were more in tune with the Light Side of the Force, albeit not like Jedi. The way the witches approached their use of the Force was nothing like Wraith had ever seen before. When comparing them to Jedi, it was like they played the same melody as Jedi but on a different instrument and at a very different pace.

"Thank you," he replied as he drank the tea. It tasted bitter and light. The Matriarch smiled in return.

"Your business is with our kind, is it not?" she asked. Wraith understood her connection with the Force and how both their minds were linked through it.

"It is. I have come to seek one of your kind to join me in my endeavours."

"Why a Dathomirian?"

"The Force showed me."

"What do these endeavours entail?"

"The Force gives me direction. But I know of Sith that need to be eliminated," said Wraith.

"But you are not a Jedi replied the Matriarch. "That much is clear about you."

Wraith told her his story, recounting everything to the aged Witch. She listened intently until he finished, gently sipping her tea.

"I have felt this disturbance for some time now," she finally said. "But we are only concerned by ourselves and our clans. This is simply the way we are." She rose. Wraith thought that her words meant she was unwilling to help him.

"There is however an anomaly within the Singing Mountain Clan," continued the Matriarch. "Just like the Sith, Ventress, was destined to roam the galaxy so is one of my very own acolytes."

"Come on in, Elara," she said with a loud voice. There was a surprised shuffle outside of the tent and the beautiful witch entered. She bowed deeply before her elder and knelt next to Wraith. She refused to look at him and fixed her eyes on the kettle; acting like a child who was caught in the act.

The Matriarch laughed. "It seems that my child has taken a liking to you, Outsider." Blood rose to Elara's cheek. Wraith's gaze was still on her, taking in every angular and delicate feature.

"And the interest appears to be reciprocated," chuckled the older woman. It was Wraith's turn to look away.

"Fascination of a different life and fascination of connection to the Force," continued the Matriarch. "It seems you two have intertwining destinies."

She rose prompting the other two to follow her. "I am willing to let go of my child Elara," she said. "But your endeavours will end in misery. You require better understanding of who you are, Outsider, if you are to succeed."

"What do you have in mind?" asked Wraith.

A sly smile appeared on the old woman's face. "I will let Elara educate you in the ways of the Singing Mountain. Like you, we are balanced. Like you, we are strong. Now you must learn to live with who you are."

Her foot crushed his throat and Wraith was sent flying backwards.

"This is our way of life," she stated.

Wraith channelled the Force to heal his injuries and stood up. "Kicking men in the neck?" he rasped.

She ignored him. "We breathe the Force, we live on the Force. Every step I take is enhanced by the Force, every notion is deliberate and every word a spell."

Wraith approached her in a fighting stance. Both of them were deprived of any weapons. Elara had taken him to an empty field and demanded him to show her what he knew of the Force. Before he could blink, she was already kicking him.

Wraith opened himself to the Force: it healed his wounds, it made him faster and stronger, it enhanced his senses telling him where and when his opponent will strike and even where to hit back. As he moved closer he heard her mutter something in a language he did not comprehend. She let out a gust of wind: it spiralled and his face with the power of an actual blow. His head twisted unnaturally due to the wind currents.

"We use the Force to shape our spells," she said. "We control nature." Fire sprung from her hands. Her fireball would have damaged him had Wraith not unleashed his own Force blast. He disappeared, planning to reappear behind her. Elara's hand swung, catching Wraith in the jaw as he reappeared.

"I can see how far the rift in space goes. I know where you would go." Wraith Force gripped some dirt and flung it in her eyes. He followed up, driving his knee in her stomach.

"Tell me, witch," he said still reeling from her assault. "Did I perhaps threaten you when I was a Sith? Or is it the fact that I am your equal?"

She flew at him, throwing him in the ground. They rolled, a mess of links and dirt, each struggling for the top position. He kicked her off and shot lightning at her. She redirected it into a blast. Wraith had a Force grip on her leg and they both flew.

Wraith slammed against a tree. He heard his vertebrae crack. Vines came to life, entangling him to the trunk. Elara's hands wrapped around his neck and she freed one to charge a lightning bolt. Wraith could barely breathe and did the one thing his instincts told him to.

He titled his head forwards and locked lips with the witch.

The sheer shock of the sudden kiss disrupted Elara's concentration. The vines receded and her strength ebbed. Wraith broke the kiss and turned them suddenly. Their faces were inches away, a fierce look in their eyes. Both their hands were in front of their body: lightning, ferocious red from him and incandescent white from her, sparked angrily at each other. Neither one striking and yet the pressure of the Force power built up until the lightning exploded in a shower of sparks.

Elara looked shaken.

"Never speak of this again," she said in frustrated tones as she walked away from Wraith.


	20. So Long Sentiment

So Long Sentiment

Weeks turned to months and after two full moon cycles, Wraith was still on Dathomir, learning from the Singing Mountain Clan. They had refused to accept him at first: they considered men to be less in touch with the Force. However both the Matriarch and Elara vouched for him.

Their lives were so simple compared to any other society Wraith had encountered. Their unyielding faith in the Force guided their every breath. They worshipped aspects of the Force, thanking the very energy that gave them life for the day that passed. They celebrated the simple things like the rising sun and gusts of wind – all of which, explained the Matriarch, are the foundation of life on any planet. If one were not to be thankful for the very air they breathe, then what can they be thankful for?

But there wasn't just blind faith and acceptance. The Singing Mountain Clan was the most powerful clan on the planet and that was for one reason only: their unyielding tenacity to improve themselves. To them, it was a blasphemy not to give one's best in anything they do, just like it was a blasphemy to harm any living thing unless to preserve balance. Wraith had been most curious about this. To them, hunting would mean taking a life so they sought to repay the planet by channelling the Force through their lands. If a Nightsister harboured murderous intent, it was their duty to destroy that source of negativity. It would topple the balance between Light and Dark.

Wraith realized just how limited his knowledge was. He began by participating in their morning rituals. Prayers of gratitude gradually flowed into meditation and his connection with the Force grew daily. It was an arduous process to unbind himself from his training: all his life he was trained as a Sith and an assassin. All he knew was combat. He had his specialized style of lightsaber combat, coupled with over-practiced Force techniques, mostly involved telekinesis and physical aspects, and hand-to-hand combat suited only for quick killing. As a Jedi he saw how he could use his powers for benevolence and peace rather than blood spill but he was still caught in the clutches of conflict. And yet the more he observed the Witches, the more he realized how misused the Force is. They called them spells and were direct applications of the Force. In reality there was nothing magical about it- just a very specific discipline of Force usage. What surprised Wraith was not the spells themselves but the sheer number of them. The majority had no direct combat application whatsoever. Every witch cultivated plants and vegetation with the Force. They spoke to animals; not to subdue but to ask them for aid. Through the Force, the Witches of Dathomir had achieved a symbiosis with their homeward and the universe.

So Wraith prayed with them. He had two beautiful plants inside the hut he had built by coaxing clay from the land through the Force. One of them even began to blossom. He trained with their warriors, trying to relinquish his body to the will of the Force. Even with his enlightenment, he was still a mess and still fallible as one. He had learnt to understand physics and bend nature to his will. He could conjuror fire, albeit it was nowhere near as powerful and efficient as the Witches'. He had more success extracting water from damp areas and freezing it, he learnt to feel the current of the wind and manipulate it. He learnt to understand the soil beneath him and transmute its minerals. He could create small globules of light. His lightning could take shape of small delicate red bolts, gently snaking around his fingertips or become a raging storm.

And once she felt his training was complete, the Matriarch summoned him.

"You have fully immersed yourself in our ways, Outsider," she said. "What do you think of us?"

Wraith dipped his head solemnly. "I think that if everyone lived as you do, this foolish war would have never taken place. There would be no Jedi and no Sith: merely a group of co-existing Force-adepts who seek only understanding."

The Matriarch nodded gently. "I am glad that you understand what we strive so hard for. Do you still intend to take my daughter with you?"

Wraith nodded and gazed at Elara. "Only if she wishes it. I humbly request her aid in my mission."

Elara's large eyes softened. "Mother," she said. "Since my childhood I have desired nothing but to explore the universe and bring about our peace to other worlds. The Outsider is offering me this."

The elder witch nodded slightly.

"Also," continued Elara, "according to our laws we must always help those in need. In helping Wraith, I am helping not only our Clan and our allied clans but the entire universe." She locked eyes with Wraith and he smiled, grateful. She, too, smiled.

The Matriarch let out a chuckle and then a full giggle. "Ah, I see now that it is not just your sense of justice driving you, my child," she said. Both looked at her and blushed. But their emotions were clear enough for the Matriarch to feel and through the Force she saw its evolution.

She saw Elara and Wraith fighting for the first time. Her instincts had been right – they both felt attracted to each other. When Wraith had kissed Elara, it all became clear. She had refused to speak to him for a week before snapping at him because his form was off. He had been making deliberate mistakes just to get her to talk to him again and felt so happy when she did. After that they spent most of their efforts pretending that the attraction did not exist. But instead it grew stronger. Wraith would listen to her tuition with rapt attention, enthusiastically learning from her. She mesmerized him for a different reason now – he had never met someone he wanted to know better. In turn, he would fascinate her with tales of his missions and his experiences both as a Sith and Jedi. Her heart burned with a desire to experience those memories for herself and once, during a full moon festival, she had told him so. He told her that he would love for that to happen but also that he wished to accompany her. He confessed his fascination that night and, before they knew it, their hands were intertwined as she lay gently on top of him and their faces inched closer. Through the vision, even the Matriarch found herself cheering them on. But their natures prevented them from fully trusting in their emotions and both pulled back at the first contact between their lips. Not all was lost though. From that night onwards they spent every waking moment with each other. Both smiled a lot. Their hearts thumped violently every time their brushed against each other.

The Matriarch grinned as she experienced the feeling between the two sitting across from her.

"You both have my blessing," she said. "But before you go, you must use the Cleansing Springs. They will restore your strength and remove any negative energy. Both of you will leave from my land with all your fatigue and stress removed and with replenished hope."


	21. Moonlit Sonata

Moonlit Sonata

The Cleansing Springs were a series of hot springs, each separated by a large hut to shield it from view. Wraith went up to the farthest one, disrobed and immersed himself in the water. He was at the topmost hill on their mountains and nothing obstructed a moonlit view of the valleys below.

The water sucked away all the fatigue and worries until he felt at peace. He felt one with the world and with the Force. It was a feeling he would cherish forever.

Amidst his peace he heard her approach. He could read her intentions clearly but couldn't help open his eyes and see for himself. Fully nude, Elara sat on the ledge of the hot spring and gently eased herself into the water next to him.

"What are you doing?" he whispered huskily.

Her eyes burned with passion. "I'm done pretending. I have tried everything I could to convince myself otherwise but I feel attracted to you. I know you reciprocate my feelings wholeheartedly. Mother saw this as well earlier." She pressed her body against his and his hands wrapped around her. Beneath the full moon her purple eyes shone like fireflies. Her pale skin glistened with the same silvery hue of the water crests and her obsidian hair, plastered gently across her back did not obscure a vision of beauty. She touched his rugged face, mesmerized by his grey eyes. They had a slight golden tinge in them. Not the sulphuric yellow of the Dark Side but a pure gold, like an early sun. His dark hair was long but enough to give him rugged charm as did his slight stubble.

"From this moment onwards I have nothing restricting me from being with you," she said as she moved closer. "Let go, Wraith. Let go of it all." Their lips met and Wraith's mind cleared.

Their kiss deepened as their hands gently traced across their bodies. A shy, gentle touch soon became a deep, intense motion and they let their instincts take reign. As their bodies exploded each other their minds connected, sharing in each other's passion and feeling. And finally, under the full moon's clear light, they became one.

Their lovemaking only began in the hot springs. Wraith had picked her up, causing Elara to yelp and giggle, and carried her to the hut where they resumed their passionate activities in a more comfortable place. It was well into the night when they fell asleep in each other's' arms.

She woke him from his sleep by calling him through the Force. Wraith pulled his pants on and reluctantly left Elara's warm embrace. The Matriarch waited for him. She leaned against the railing, overseeing the vast lands beneath. Wraith leaned next to her.

"I see that you finally consummated your feelings for each other," she said. "Good. I haven't seen Elara this happy. I am glad that you have found each other."

"I am honoured to have met her," he replied.

"Outsider, Wraith," she said. Her head was lowered in his direction. Wraith was taken back. "You came before me with a request. Now I must request something of you," she said. Wraith placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her up gently.

"Anything for you Matriarch," he said.

"Please take care of my daughter," she begged. Wraith sensed the genuine care in her and realized something.

"Your daughter," he said. "I thought you were using the term generically but this care; this is something only a parent can feel. Elara is your actual daughter is she not?"

The elder witch nodded. "Yes. I am Clan Mother to all the Singing Mountain Clan but Elara is my flesh." Wraith began to panic: he had slept with the Matriarch's daughter.

"Don't fret," replied the old witch. "I can see that what you two have is genuine. That is the reason I set you up together. Very rarely does one achieve what you have, Wraith: Love."

"May I ask you something, then?" he replied. She nodded. "The Sith teach in favour for strong emotion and allow themselves to be slaves to passion. I have felt that and it leads to destruction and despair. The Jedi, on the other hand, preach detachment. They forgo emotion completely and that leads to emptiness. I do not want to let go of what I feel but I do not wish it to overtake me."

The Matriarch chuckled. "I understand. My dear boy, that is the very essence of balance. You must feel but control what you feel as well. The love you feel is too pure to become destruction unless you taint it. Therefore you must control your passions but never your love. That love gives you purpose and hope. Never let go of it."

Wraith nodded. "Thank you." He gazed at the hut. "Will Elara take your place someday?"

"No," she replied. "She should, but my daughter's destiny is far greater than just the Clan. Your destinies are intertwined now. Do not worry about us, Outside. We will be just fine. Focus on your business."

"Yes, Matriarch," replied Wraith as he turned to leave.

"And Wraith?" she called. He turned. "Please take care of my daughter."

"I will," he replied. "With all my heart."

"I have faith in you," said the Matriarch. "May the Force be with you."


	22. Suit Up

Suit Up

The Caves of Ilum were some of the Jedi's most sacred places and Wraith could not believe that he and Elara were trusted to be there.

After taking her to the Jedi Temple, Elara had met with Yoda and Wraith requested her to be part of his team. Yoda smiled, chuckled and said "made her choice, she already has". Elara told Yoda that she can to act as a liaison between her Clan and the Jedi, hopefully creating a mutual alliance. Then they moved onto a long talk, where Wraith conveyed all he knew to the Grandmaster, vouching for the ways of the Singing Mountain Clan. Yoda was happy with the inner peace the two young ones before him seemed to find.

"Changed, both of you are," he had said. "Reflected this change must be. To the Crystal Caves of Ilum you must go. Cultivate your soul, you will."

And so the two were allowed inside the maze of crystals and light illuminated the kaleidoscope of colour within. They went their separate ways. Elara followed her senses and allowed the Force to guide her. She was led to a deep stalagmite and sensed a crystal, a small one, inside it. She coerced the ice and stone to give way and the stalagmite loosened and fell. She caught it with the Force and shredded away the casing. The crystal was plain and rough: like her, it was only a bud. She placed it deep in the soil beneath her and, just like a flower; she nourished it with her powers. But, this time, she gave the crystal her very essence, as if to create a double for her. Soon the crystal grew brighter and smoother and, when Elara extracted it and held it to the light, it shone a bright purple, almost lavender, like her eyes. Its colour mesmerized her: now she knew why Wraith had complemented her eyes as her most beautiful feature. She reached behind her and grabbed a Phrik cane. It was her own lightsaber; which she had created after Wraith had instructed her how. He had shown her a multitude of weapon handles but she told him that she preferred to use something she was familiar with. She was praised in her clan for her mastery over the halberd and thus chose a lightsaber pike design. Over the next three days she laboured over forging the polearm. She refused to use already available materials – "Phrik is well and good," she told Wraith "but it is not suitable for spells. I want to make this weapon one with the Force. I am first and foremost, a Witch of Dathomir." And so she forged a handle using traditional Phrik and Dathomir steel using the methods of her clan. Once finished, the staff could channel her powers as easily as her clan weapon, which she refused to take with her from her home world. She also made the handle collapsible, so that she could shorten its length by about half and kept it attached across her back by using a long magnetic strip.

For the lightsaber portion, she created a shoto – a short lightsaber. The lightsaber pike had a shorter plasma blade but thicker and she figured that a shoto attacked to her custom handle would do the truck. It took her nearly a day to put the two components together but soon she had one complete weapon. All that was left was the crystal.

She dismantled her weapon, revealing the innards of her polearm. The large battery cells and internal workings going from halfway through the handle till the end of the emitter matrix at the top. She placed the crystal a quarter for the emitter, sliding it in its chamber. She assembled it again and twirled the weapon around. She lit the crystal and a thick blade extended from the edge. Purple flooded the caves. Elara channelled her powers and felt the crystal respond. In fact, she felt the whole weapon as a part of her, like a limb that had always been there. With a satisfactory smile she switched off her weapon, collapsed the handle and stuck it to her back. She and Wraith promised to meet back at the ship once they had accomplished their mission.

Wraith was sent deeper in the Caves until he came at a clearing. There he sat in the dim glow of the surrounding crystals. He felt the need to communicate with his crystals. Extracting his weapons, he dismantled them and held the fours red crystals in his cupped hands. He closed his eyes and brought his hands to his face. Inspired by the Witches, he murmured a prayer of thanks to the crystals. He felt them resonate and channelled the Force through them. Subtly he felt the synthetic molecules of the crystals morph, evolving just like he did. He was no longer bound by the blood he shed but rather by intention and balance. Their deep crimson hue glowed and burned brighter and brighter. The colour changed to the ember red – the colour Wraith associated with flames. The deep crimson had become a burning ember colour and the crystals resembled tiny ambers surrounded by fire. It was a scene he once saw in a forge – he admired the metalworkers who held molten ore and shaped it to suit their needs. It reminded him of the Force. 'No, not just the Force,' he thought. 'This is my destiny. I forge my own destiny.' He assembled his weapons around the crystals, got up and activated his lightsabers. The colour of flames exploded, illuminating caves far beyond his reach and knowledge. It was as if Wraith held twin suns in his hands. These weapons were stronger, better. With these, and his knowledge of the Force, he could erase the Sith. He could bring balance and peace. He could become a two agent of the Force.

They met outside. Elara was already playing around with her weapons, eager to test it out. Wraith was about to show her his, when they bend a distress call coming from the ship.

"Wraith, Elara. Is anyone there?" A Jedi shape appeared from the holoprojector.

"Yes. What is it?" replied Wraith. The figure shimmered as it was replaced by another. Master Yoda appeared.

"Under siege the Temple is. Attacking, Dooku's forces are. Protect the front entrance Master Windu and I can. Rely on you I must. The back entrance, and the Academy, you must defend."

Wraith nodded. "You can trust me, Master Yoda. Not one of these kids will be harmed. You have my word."

Yoda nodded and disappeared. The communication link had terminated.

"This is our chance to prove our loyalty," said Wraith. Elara placed her hand gently on his shoulder.

"And we will do it together."

Their ship flew rapidly over legions of droids and smoke coming from the Temple. Wraith felt his old anger building up and sought to channel it into determination. They descended inside the Temple courtyard. Droids surrounded the ship and a small squad of clones provided cover fire. With a nod to each other, Wraith and Elara burst from the ship and found themselves at the heart of the droid battalion.

She yelled and spread her hands. A scythe of wind, highly pressurized, sliced through the droids. Wraith unleashed a Force wave sending droids flying. Even the ship inched backwards.

Red lightning arced from his hands to the droids as he yelled "go, go, go" to Elara. Together they crossed the courtyard, blasting droids as the clone squad provided cover fire. Before they could take shelter, Wraith levitated a boulder and electrified it. When he hurled it towards a large battle droid, it exploded, disintegrating nearby droids. Elara cupped her hands, murmured a spell and a compressed ball of light formed in her hands.

"Here, toss this," she told Wraith as she threw it at him. Wraith recognized the spell and caught it with the Force, careful not to touch it and set it off. He was facing Elara and shot her spell over his shoulder using a small Force blast. The globe of light was sent in the droids' midst and exploded, disintegrating every droid there. It even blew up their ship's wing.

Wraith gripped the ceiling telekinetically and brought down giant boulders, effectively blocking the entrance.

"More will be coming," he told the clone leader.

The latter saluted. "Thank you for saving our behinds there. Generals Wraith and Elara I presume."

Wraith and Elara looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Is there a problem Sir?"

Wraith held up his hands. "Ah nothing. It's just funny: a former Sith and a Dathmirian Witch being called Generals. I just never thought I'd see it happen."

They straightened up. "Yeah we are Wraith and Elara," said Elara. "Who's in charge here?"

The Captain stood at attention. "Captain Maze, in command of the thirteenth battalion, Ma'am."

Another clone strode out. This one wore all black like his unit and had a yellow shoulder pauldron and yellow markings on his armour. He walked with the casualty of a man who has been through some major fights. "Commander Talon and these are my men; the hundredth and tenth Commando Unit." He saluted. "Your orders Generals?"

Wraith glanced at the barricade and at the wide corridor they were in.

"They'll bring diggers out soon," said Wraith. He raised his voice. "To all clone units. This is your first order: Suit up."


	23. Assault

Assault

The heavy duty droids were bashing away at the barricade. The clones had built trenches from furniture and scrap metal and took shelter behind their nests. The commando unit had lined up in rows of battle ready soldiers – they were the driving force behind the counterattack. The other clones had longer range weapons and would support them through heavy fire. A squad of them also joined the Commandoes. Wraith and Elara were at the very front acting as vanguards. Behind them, the commandoes were divided in two groups and were to follow their charge. The Captain stood next to Wraith and Elara.

After Wraith had given the order, the clones scattered inside a nearby armoury and recharged their weaponry. They replaced damaged gear and replenished their ammo packs. Wraith and Elara had armoured themselves: Wraith selected only leather materials – he was accustomed to speed and manoeuvrability and feared that bulky armour would interfere with his Force power or his nimble movements. Elara, however, adapted some heavy clone armour. It felt light to her; after all, she was used to her Clan's steel armour.

As they waited, Wraith noticed the clones fidgeted. He could feel their uneasiness.

"Say Elara," he called. "How about a wager?"

She raised her eyebrows. "What kind?"

"Given that you saved my hide on Dathomir, how about you take it easy and let the man do the heavy lifting?"

She snorted. "Like you can keep up with me."

"Twenty credits says I rack up more droids than you."

"A hundred say you'll eat my dust," she shot back. Wraith heard some of the clones snicker.

"How about you Captain? Commander?" he called.

Talon spoke out. "We're not allowed to gamble, General," he said sternly. Then a grin stretched on his lips. "But if I were to bet, Sir, I'd say General Elara would win."

Wraith gave him a quizzical look.

"She's got the bigger stick," replied Talon as nearly clones snickered.

"We tend to side with whoever holds the biggest weapons," added Maze.

Wraith grinned. He activated his twin lightsabers, flooding the corridor in flame colored light. He heard gaps. His lightsabers twirled as he exhibited intricate flourishes. He conjured them into a lightsaber staff, twirled it around and stopped in an impassive pose.

"So who's got the bigger stick now?" he asked cheekily.

Elara snickered. She extended her pike to full length and activated her lightsaber. Purple light invaded the flame's territory. She spun the pike around, executing some very impressive moves. She too finished in an impressive pose.

"She still does, Sir," replied Maze simply. This time Wraith heard laughs. He pretended to sulk and separated his weapons.

"You guys suck," he said mockingly.

There was a tremendous shudder and cracks appeared in the stone barricades. The droids were breeching in.

"Hey, boys," yelled Wraith as he looked towards the barricades. "I know we don't know each other that well, so how about we scrap some droids and go out for a drink later?"

Their voice was in union. "Aye Sir!"

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" he roared back.

"AYE SIR!" Their voice shook the building. They were no longer afraid. Rather, they felt their souls on fire. The droids breeched completely and battle droids ran towards the clones.

Wraith readied himself for battle and yelled a final order.

"CHARGE!"

With a burst of Force speed, the two Force users met the droids first. Wraith's lightsaber twirled, creating a barrier against the blaster fire. His Shien training proved efficient in redirecting laser, giving him enough time to close the distance that a swordsman needs. He felled one droid after another. A super battle droid closed in, its arm extended. Wraith spun, slicing off one arm then the droid itself.

"Droidekas," he heard a close yell. The bent droids were shooting at clones, their shield generators stopping any return fire. Wraith levitated one and threw it into a second one. That created a domino effect, toppling over the entire row. Clones rolled grenades at them and most of the droidekas blew up or sustained heavy damage.

More showed up. They were proving too much for the clones. Wraith thrust out both hands. He altered the natural magnetic field around him and extended it. The field covered all the droidekas and the magnetism moved up their shield generators, shorting them out.

The clones returned fire.

Wraith's magnetic field pushed the droids far and then he switched the polarity, causing attraction instead of repulsion. All those droids shot back into him. But he was prepared.

With his twin lightsabers he used the Niman Jar'Kai technique of Rising Whirlwing. The flame colored blades spun around him with such velocity that all the clones saw as a solid flame covering Wraith. The lightsabers shredded through the droids, reducing them to shreds.

Elara's mastery of the halberd was reflected by the way she used her lightsaber pike. The lavender blade sliced through a droid, cleaving it in half. She plunged the end of staff into a battle droid and channelled the Force. With a burst of effort she lifted the droid upwards, over her and into a second battle droid. Her blade sliced through another one. She channelled a fire spell through her weapon and the last third of the staff superheated to a glowing orange. She plunged it through a droideka, gently, the weapon parting the shield generator and cutting into the droid as if it were little more than air.

When she felt Wraith using his magnetic spell, she took advantage of it. She channelled the Force and slammed the butt of her polearm on the ground. The Force wave uprooted all droids, to be caught in Wraith's magnetic field. At the same time she used an earth spell to root herself against his spell. She paused to watch Wraith slice through the droids like a buzzsaw. Movement caught her peripheral vision.

An assassin droid crawled against the wall stealthily. Wraith was too tired to notice it closing in on him.

She held her weapon like a javelin and threw it with all her might. The pike shot into the leaping assassin droid and held fast. The assassin droid was now hung like a grotesque ornament.

More droids closed in on them, this time led by a second battalion of assassin droids. Elara realized that this army was too thick for the clones to handle and Wraith was only just recovering. She sped ahead, unarmed. But that didn't mean she couldn't thin out their advancing numbers.

Fire, bright and thin, shot from her hands like a laser beam. She sliced through the droids with ease. The surviving droids retaliated with blaster fire. Undeterred she leapt in an impressive display of acrobatics and twisted. The thin flames sliced through the droids.

She landed and behind her an assassin droid loomed over her, holding a vibro knife. She didn't have time to react and braced herself for the killing blow. It never came.

Wraith's lightsaber sliced through the droid as he appeared over the Witch. He conjured his weapons and sliced through another droid. Laser fire shot at them and met his Force barrier. He grabbed Elara and teleported. He dropped her amongst the clones where she retrieved her weapon and disappeared again in a single step.

He appeared in the midst of the battalion and retaliated with a barrage of vicious strikes. He gave himself over to Juyo, allowing its brutal attacks to reflect his intentions. He would not allow anyone to know the only person he ever loved. He will destroy them all.

The clones and Elara watched in silence as Wraith unleashed one feral attack after the other. He felled the legion and straightened his shoulders. His eyes met Elara's and gave her the thumbs up. She smiled back.

Just as he was about to rejoin the troops, Wraith felt its presence. Something foul, dark and twisted. He spun and saw a shadow move erratically. The figure looked humanoid and grotesque. It was disfigured and cloth in rags.

And in one hand, it carried a red lightsaber.


	24. Something Wicked this Way Comes

Something Wicked this Way Comes

It attacked with the frenzy of a caged animal, leaving no quarter for Wraith to counter strike. Its physique reminded him of Rakghoul plagues, common during the Cold War, which made the victims look like a zombie. A feral, omnivorous zombie with a lightsaber and no physical inhibitions. Had Wraith not been completely in tune with the Force and privy to enhanced senses, the mutant would have struck him down. Instead he blocked and parried, until he managed to Force crush the beast's heart.

Nothing happened.

It kept attacking, until Wraith channelled lightning, disabling its lightsaber and scorching its hands black; a stark contrast against its bleach white skin. Still the lightning did not seem to halt it and, despite missing its limbs, the creature attacked still. Only when Wraith lopped its head off did it fall down dead.

He had no time to relax. That mutant was just a scout, he realized, as he sensed more and heard the ignition of lightsabers. Like a veritable swarm of buzzing locusts, more mutants, emerged by the dozen from the darkness.

"Someone is teleporting them in," said Elara. She had rushed to his side and they fought back to back. Wraith saw that traditional Force powers had little effect on them and followed Elara's example of shooting lances of fire, needles of water and reinforcing their bodies to dish out punishment amongst the mutant ranks.

Their lightsabers were cheaply made and clearly rushed in some factory. What clothes they wore resembled hospital garments. They were devoid of hair – some even of teeth and fingernails. A few had tendrils and _lekku_, although they were little more than stumps and bumps. Their eyes were obsidian, like deep space. And whilst their template was obviously humanoid, there was nothing human about their behaviour.

They fought with mindless ferocity, uncaring for their wounds. They couldn't feel pain, or indeed anything. Every time they were damaged, Wraith felt the Force heal them, sealing their wounds. It softened blows. They had no internal organs, realized Wraith. Their brain, mostly dead, was remotely controlled by someone using the Dark Side of the Force.

Marionettes. Mutant marionettes.

When the last one was left, Wraith halted Elara from killing it. Instead he dismembered its arms and legs. The mutant still attempted to bite him and snapped its gnarled teeth at him. He levitated it with the Force and smashed it head first into a wall, leaving a dent. The mutant shook uncontrollably and struggled to function. Almost immediately, Wraith had his hands around its head, sending out lightning. Not offensive arcs, but subtle, nearly microscopic, transmissions of electricity, interfering with its remote signal. He jammed the Force signal and shut down its brain.

"Why did you keep it alive?" asked Elara.

"They are being operated through the Force," he replied. "Which means I can trace the signal."

Master Yoda was not happy with his plan. "Way of the Jedi, this is not. Torture, we do not."

"It will be painless," explained Wraith. "I simply wish to extract information directly from his brain."

"Sith, that technique is," replied Yoda.

"Well in case you haven't noticed," snapped Wraith "I am neither Jedi nor Sith."

Yoda gave him a reproaching look. "Do not let fear and confusion cloud your mind." He sighed. "Too much blood, today was shed. Answers you must find. But present I will be. My duty to you, neglect I shall not."

They had chained the mutant inside a holding cell. Yoda and Elara were to hold it steady with the Force whilst Wraith activated its mind again.

The creature struggled violently, ceasing only thanks to the efforts of the witch and the Jedi Grandmaster. Once confident that it wouldn't bite his hand off, Wraith grabbed its head and concentrated.

Though the Force he dove into its brain. The creature's mind was a mass off twisting darkness and rot. He saw a vat, in a lab, as a distant memory. He saw an operating droid driving long needles and spikes into its body and mind. Then _he_ showed up.

He was the Dark Side incarnate, serving only as a phantom. It infiltrated its mind, removed any notion of intellect and individuality only to replace it with itself. The Sith had given the order to ravage the Temple, setting the mutants loose on Coruscant without restraint.

His presence was too much for Wraith to comprehend. He could never grasp onto the Sith and counter his influence. Instead he settled for the next best thing.

He made himself smaller almost into a synapse and lodged into a tiny corner of the mutant's brain, like a nano-virus.

"Where do you come from?"

He'd nearly gotten the answer. The galaxy became a system, then a planet, then a location, then a room, then a vat. Using a complicated mix of Drain knowledge, the Art of the Small and psychometry, Wraith began uncovering the origins of the mutant.

Suddenly, darkness loomed, cutting off his connection. He felt the Sith strike back and pushed him out of the mutant's mind.

Wraith was back in the holding cell and thrown backwards.

"Stop him!" he yelled. But it was too late. He felt the Sith destroy the mutant's brain, rotting it from the inside.

Elara and Yoda felt its death too.

"Did you get it?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied.

"A new location have you?" asked Yoda.

Wraith steadied himself and tried to get rid of the Sith's looming image.

"Yes, I do," he said as he hid a hand which shook uncontrollably.

"Dromund Kaas."


	25. City of Evil

City of Evil

The Citadel of Drumund Kaas was a giant metropolis of dark grey metal and sinister lights. The sky was always dark, as if on the precipice of rain. The people were quiet and silent as they went about their daily routines. They wore hoods and thick tunics, seemingly to hide individual features and obscure them from the world then to shield against the weather.

Wraith and Elara had no problem blending in. Their only problem was their target's location. They knew what they were looking for – a cloning facility deep beneath the Citadel and nearly half as large. They had to go by the roundabout way – it would have been too suspicious if two figures made a beeline for a restricted area.

So they waited for the cover of nightfall and like two spirits, flitted by. The guards, they knew, were not Sith. They didn't even know what they were guarding. They were just grunts; paid to wander around the Citadel in vigilance and to keep out any intruders from restricted areas. So the two Force-users refrained from lethal force, opting to swoop behind their targets and apply small bursts of electricity. Stunning, not killing. The entrance to the facility was like the entrance to a primitive dungeon. There were no laser-locks or force-field grids; just a foreboding gate of darkness. As he stepped inside, Wraith felt the darkness within.

It came in waves, like an ocean. The Dark Side powers that erected this facility acted as a fulcrum, pulsating at the core. But what affected Wraith were the despair, anger and hate emanating from the place. He was genuinely surprised that the walls had not decayed from it. This was not the despair of one person. Hundreds, thousands; no, tens of thousands were tortured and experimented upon here, creating mutants and monsters. And it went on for ages, decades. Year after year, cycle after cycle, experiment after experiment; the negative emotions fed the Dark Side and it festered. Even in his horrified state, Wraith understood the ingenuity of such a structure. The place created negativity which fed the Sith's power. He, in turn, would power his facility, creating more despair. It was a perfect cycle.

They both felt it and their anger intensified.

"We can't be rash about this," said Wraith through clenched teeth. He was trying to convince himself rather than his partner.

"What exactly are we doing here?" she asked. Her weapon was already at hand.

"There is someone we need in there. I'll know when I see them," he replied. "In the meantime, let us damage this place as much as we can."

They snuck into an air vent and crawled into the control room. From their perch they saw more guards lounging on their console chairs, playing Sarlacc and other card games. Wraith extracted one of his lightsabers and steadied himself with the other. These guards were not innocent: one prod inside their minds and Wraith knew that they were fully aware of who they supported. He gave Elara a quick nod.

The vent shot downwards, interrupting a three-way game of Sarlacc. The metal vent crashed into the holographic screen. Elara fell down and her weapon bludgeoned one in the head. A kinetic blast blew another guard's head off. Her leg lashed forwards throwing another guard at Wraith.

The former Sith had teleported inside the room and felt the impact of the guard being thrown at him. His lightsaber activated, impaling the enemy before the remaining four could wrap their heads around what happened in the past half a second.

Two small lances of fire, thin and powerful, shot from Elara's hands. They hit the guards in the chest and left marks like laser blasts. Wraith lopped the head off of one of them. The last guard had managed to extract his weapon and fire off a wild shot. He missed completely. Instead, the console opposite him burst in a shower of smoke and sparks. Both Force-users shot lightning at him. The energy charred the guard and arced into the consoles in the control room. Warnings and alarms blared, suddenly sending the whole compound into chaos.

"I'll deal with the droids," said Elara as she stepped forwards. "I'll be your distraction. Go rescue whoever it is you have to." Her purple lightsaber activated. She took a step forwards, towards the mechanical whirring, indicating the arrival of droids. Suddenly she spun and kissed Wraith's lips.

"For luck," she said.

"Don't die," she yelled as she took off towards the droids.

"You too." He wasn't sure whether she heard his voice.

He made his way towards the location he saw in the mutant's mind. Only a handful of guards, late responders to the blaring alarms, obstructed his path. Not that they had been difficult to deal with. His Force powers had been enough against them. He found himself in a large chamber and horror filled him.

Noise, like the rattling of savage monkey, echoed from the cages.

There were cages everywhere.

They held mutants: some complete like the ones he had affronted at the Jedi Temple. Most were misshapen blobs with welts and overgrown scabs on their chalk white hides. They were all pitted against eachother in a horrific pile of flesh. They all seemed to move towards one place. A tray of slop, probably food, was slumped on one corner. Only the strongest and fittest could fight off the others and reach their meal. It was a bloodbath, with most mutants feasting on eachother's flesh in a desperate attempt to live.

This scene had repeated itself in various corners, perhaps in six different locations. After the numbers had dwindled down, a human guard wielding a heavy duty stun baton arrived. A dozen Magna-class droids had appeared, poking at the mutants to push them towards eachother.

A particular mutant caught Wraith's eyes. It was large, a bulky humanoid perhaps eight feet tall. It was perfectly formed with eggshell white skin and no hair. Impossibly thick muscle gave the giant a truly formidable look. He was grunting and savagely eating on the disgusting slop when two Magna droids approached him. He grunted once and swiped his arm, sending droids and mutants flying.

"Come on, Turge," cawed the human. "You know the drill." The giant roared and remained where he was. His eyes wore a look of defiance. The warden slapped his wrist-comm and gave his orders.

"I don't have time for your crap today, Turge. Get back in your cage."

The giant ignored him.

"All right, then," said the warden as his voice shook in anger. Clearly he wasn't used to being ignored. "Kill him," he barked at the droids.


	26. Enter Sandman

Enter Sandman

Turge was a fan of the pre-emptive strike. When he heard the Warden's order, the massive mutant barrelled into a Magna droid, flattening it. His massive arm flung the second droid into the air. It hit the wall and smashed into spare parts.

Meanwhile Wraith snuck behind the Warden and the two droids guarding him. His lightsabers arced and, with their Authorized User gone, the droids fell back to their last command. They rushed at Turge. The hulking giant punched and flailed his massive hands. The droids never got a single hit in. Wraith unleashed Force lightning, disintegrating the droids before they could get up again. Turge turned and growled at Wraith.

"It's all right," he said as he raised his hands. The plasma blades had disappeared into the lightsaber hilts. "I'm here to free you. The Force showed me to path to-"

Without warning the massive mutant shot towards him. Wraith jumped high and out of the way.

"I'm not here to hurt you." Turge looked at Wraith, who was hovering in mid-air beyond his reach. The mutant's muscles coiled as he crouched and leapt upwards. His jump height exceeded Wraith's and he loomed over the human. With unnatural precision, Turge tilted forwards and on top of Wraith. His massive frame hit Wraith and together they fell.

Turge's body hit the ground in a body slam and left a crater. Wraith teleported away at the last second and hovered away. Turge roared, shaking the room with his voice and grabbed a piece of debris. He hurled rock at Wraith who had to use the Force to deflect them as he flew nimbly in between. He positioned himself on top of Turge and unleashed lightning. His intention was to incapacitate, not kill. But the beast was so powerful that even his most lethal power would only slow him down. Red lightning shot from Wraith's body and into Turge. The mutant flailed and roared, obviously in agony.

Wraith went into a nose dive and latched onto Turge's head. Lightning still arced from him through the heart. He grasped the mutant's head and mentally dove into it. The beast's mind was too strong for the Sith's commands – hence why it was always caged. Instead the Sith chose to lock away every ounce of reasoning Turge possessed as punishment and incentive. The mental barriers were an ancient Sith magic but the Force had illuminated Wraith as to how best dissolve them. Now it was just a matter of diverting Force form lightning to the Art of the Small, in combination with telepathic powers. It was risky since at that moment, if Wraith brushed against the wrong spot in Turge's head, the beast would tear off the helpless Wraith and rip him apart.

The first block was his reasoning. Turge was human once. Wraith allowed him to understand and learn once more. The roaring stopped, replaced by sheer confession. Wraith then unleashed his memory. He saw Turge's abduction and experimentation. To prevent an outburst Wraith unblocked his emotions, letting him remember pain, joy, rage and content. Finally, Wraith allowed the beast to speak once more.

"Who are you?" Turge's voice was a deep baritone rumble. Wraith gave him memory of himself and his mission.

"I am not the enemy," he said. Turge's onyx eyes locked with Wraith's.

"I sense Evil in you. You are Sith, like him."

"No, Turge. Not like him. I want to make you my partner not my slave. I am neither Sith, nor Jedi. I am completely free. And now so are you."

"He won't let us leave," rumbled Turge.

"Who is he?"

"The Sith who is master. He controls all."

Wraith gently placed his hand on the beast's forearm. Turge recoiled but allowed the gesture.

"But he could not control you now could he?" said Wraith. "Perhaps this Sith is not as powerful as you think."

From behind them, darkness and evil emanated like a tidal wave. A single figure clad in shadows, emerged.

"I beg to differ."


	27. Song of Fire and Ice

Song of Fire and Ice

Two things happened at the same time. Turge recoiled backwards, like a whipped puppy before its abusive master. At the same time, the Sith shit lightning at them. Thick, fat, yellow bolts ran towards Wraith.

"Look out," he said. He barrelled into the beast, and ended up in front of him. Red lighting shot from Wraith and met the Sith's. It was now a battle of wills and Force as the opposing lighting pushed against each other.

Wraith was straining under the pressure. This Sith was more powerful or perhaps the initial battles had taken their tall on Wraith. He glanced at Turge who remained petrified. He was going to be useless in this situation. Wraith redirected both his and his opponent's lightning to the metal struts at the side of the arena. The electricity went haywire and was sucked into the metal. The Sith faltered at the unexpected tactic.

Wraith teleported behind him and twisted in mid-air. A flame coloured lightsaber arced down. The Sith was covered in shadows, obscuring his form and features. Wraith's ligtsabers struck a barrier of darkness and he was nearly thrown off in recoil. But he levitated himself and cartwheeled in the air. This time he brought both his ligtsabers down in a Jar'Kai technique called Twin Strike. It was a power strike, designed to smash at any defence. The twin ligtsabers met darkness and surely enough, broke through.

A red lightsaber, held horizontally, blocked his dual strike. Wraith noticed the orange leathery hand holding a black cortosis lightsaber.

"When do I have the pleasure of duelling?" asked Wraith as he pushed against his opponent.

A muffled voice came from under the shadows. "I am Darth Ozar." He channelled the Force to push Wraith backwards. The latter was thrown off his feet but managed to land gracefully on his feet.

"I know all about you, Darth Wraith," continued Ozar. "I remember your master, Darth Mortris. We studied together."

"I am no longer Sith," shot back Wraith.

"Once a Sith always a Sith," snarled Ozar. He reached out and Wraith felt a Force Choke around his neck. He was lifted up and felt his windpipe being crushed. "It seems I am the only hidden Sith remaining. Darth Bizu and Darth Annuk have managed to successfully eradicate themselves. You have killed Darth Mortris and that clown, Darth Sidious, is having the time of his life playing politician. No matter, I'll kill you and fend for myself. That is the way of the Sith."

Wraith fought down the initial bouts of panic and tried to concentrate. The Force choke was too strong at this point so he had to break Ozar's concentration. He tried to make the ground move but Ozar's influence interrupted his attempts. The very ground was under the Sith's power. As his breath began failing his mind took him back to his training sessions with his former master - the one when he tried to drown his own apprentice.

That was it: water.

The mutant template was human and the weather outside indicated heavy signs of humidity and moisture. There were humans in the compound and none had trouble breathing. Meaning that there were both oxygen and hydrogen in the air. Wraith nudged tem together and water formed around Darth Ozar and his shadow cloak. The water became a cage, a globe of liquid which encased the Sith. Wraith redirected the energy of the Force choke into the water, and compressed.

But the shadows held fast against the water currents.

"Foolish boy. I have dominion over everything here. You can never match me."

"Dominate this," managed to say Wraith. The water gushed and became a series of ice spikes which shot into the Sith. The Dark Lord let out a scream and his Force Choke disappeared. Wraith fell on his knees and gasped loudly.

"Curse you." Darth Ozar held a hand to his face where blood was gushing down. The ice spikes had shredded large portions of the shadow cloak, revealing the Sith beneath. He was Devaronian: his horns curved backwards, giving him a rather demonic appearance. His skin was a dull orange and leathery. He wore an ornate vest and cloak with several gold markings. He had black Sith tattoos around his shoulders and chest. His eyes were sulphuric yellow: a mark of the Dark Side.

Wraith ran to one side, enhancing his pace with the Force. Ozar shot lightning and electrical destruction inches very closed behind Wraith. Suddenly the latter leapt over the lightning and dashed towards Ozar. The Sith sent out a Force blast, forcing Wraith to drop and skid under it. Keeping his momentum, Wraith lunged upwards. Ozar's red lightsaber, acting of its own volition, scythed at him. Wraith's left blade blocked it. At the same time the Sith came up from the other side and his shadows shot at Wraith. He blocked the shadows with his other saber and found himself straining as both attacks pressed against his outstretched arms. He let out a cry and the Force erupted. Lightning and power went through his body. He directed electricity into Ozar's saber – its owner was still controlling it telekinetically. Wraith couldn't short it out: Ozar was too clever for that.

Instead he pulled his lightsabers into him and twisted. Both red blade and shadow blade skewered his torso. But Wraith had become intangible and the momentum of his spin sent the shadows flying wildly into nothing. The lightsaber shot through Wraith and into Ozar – blade first.

The Sith grunted as he caught his own weapon and saved himself with his shadows. Wraith's weapons passed through him and he conjoined them. In an instant he was on top of Ozar, hacking away at his obsidian powers like a buzz saw. The Sith may have had the advantage of siphoning power from his facility, but Wraith was the better warrior. He landed a slash across Ozar's chest as the Sith blocked the other end of his weapon with his red plasma blade. He channelled a push through the weapon and once again both fighters were separated.

Darth Ozar's rage and fear consumed him and sent him over the edge. He sucked even more power from the facility, gorging himself on the despair he created. The Dark Side powers manifested in a wave of darkness emanating from his body. The shadows coalesced into an enormous had which smashed down on Wraith.

He was pressed flat against the ground facing the ceiling. All around him was negative energy. He had envisioned the giant hand slamming on him but only when he saw the Force. Now it simply looked like an extremely potent gravity field. But he felt the pressure on top of him as if a space ship had just landed on his chest. His own Force powers were keeping his body from being crushed but it was only a matter of time before Ozar's overwhelming power crushed him like an ant. He needed help, and fast.

His eyes fell on Turge, who cowered against a corner. His mind connected with his.

'You must fight,' called out Wraith. But he saw fear like a chain, constricting the giant white beast.

'Fight it,' yelled Wraith. With the last of his strength, he grasped at that chair and pushed against it. He poured all of his hope into Turge and finally a single link snapped.

'Fight it, my friend.'

Turge screamed and ripped the shackles around his mind off.

Wraith was snapped back to reality where he found he had reached the last of his strength. Turge charged into Ozar, who had not paid him any attention, and sent the Sith flying into a wall.

"Thank you," he grunted at Wraith.

Wraith coughed in return. He could already feel Ozar regaining his power. This was a battle they could not win.

"We need to leave, Turge."

"No," grunted the mutant as he snapped off a metal strut and swung it like a bat. "I kill Evil Man." He charged at Ozar and the two were locked in a deadly embrace of endurance. But Turge would die: this much Wraith knew. He had to plan an escape route.

It was the feces all around the arena that gave him his idea. He manipulated the methane molecules, increasing their volume. Sucking in a deep breath, he filled the entire arena with the noxious gas. Ozar's and Turgu's movements became slow and sluggish. Turge tipped over, unconscious.

"What are you doing?" Ozar's voice was hoarse. Wraith focused all the gas on Ozar and used the Force to create a spark.

The gas lit up like a bonfire, engulfing Ozar. Wraith Force gripped the giant mutant and pulled him away from the flames. He grabbed the mutant and focused a second flame against the door. It cut the frame open like a welder's torch and he dragged the unconscious mutant out of the room. The arena had been revealed with a special material, preventing Wraith from outside communication or teleporting out of there.

Once he was out he channelled Force lightning into Turge, shocking him awake. Flames roared behind them, soon to reach them as well.

"Move it!" yelled Wraith as he dragged the hunkering giant along the corridor. They burst from the main entrance and into the Citadel. Fire roared from the building and the citizens were too busy saving themselves and their houses to notice either of them.

Elara brought the shuttle down.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Wraith pushed Turge inside.

"Go, go, go," he yelled as he climbed in and shut the hatch behind him.

"Somebody tell me what's going on?" yelled Elara as she drove the shuttle off.

"Darth Ozar," gasped Wraith. "He's too powerful. We have to destroy the facility."

A devious smile stretched on Elara's face. "I can handle that," she said as she extracted a detonator. They could hear two more explosions shudder the facility, even form the sky.

"Two packs of charges," she explained.

"I have never loved you more than I do right now," said Wraith in relief.

"Remember that nect time we visit my mother," she quipped back.

After reaching hyperspace and settling Turge down in a quiet corner, did Wraith have a moment to quietly reflect.

"He's still alive," he said. "I can feel it."

"How can it be?" asked Elara. "Nothing could survive that."

"And yet I sense that our final confrontation with him has yet to come," insisted Wraith. "We may have taken his source of power but the Sith himself still survives."

He placed his hand gently on hers and their fingers interlaced.

"Do not worry," he said. "I have a feeling that we are approaching the end."


	28. Twisted Transistor

Twisted Transistor

Once they recounted their story to the Jedi council, the Jedi fell silent and in meditation. No one had ever heard of Darth Ozar, or indeed of any of the other Sith. It was particularly worrisome that a Sith had managed to infiltrate the political world. Wraith insisted to train Turge. The mutant had regained most of his mental facilities but he was still far too fragile for any real use.

Elara stepped in, offering to help rebuild Turge's mind. Meanwhile Wraith was tasked with the latest mission – an information mining assignment on Nar Shaddaa. Some time ago, the clones had discovered a small shipment of equipment and drugs to an undisclosed research facility on Drommund Kaas. It had not made sense then, and the Republic was too busy establishing on alliance on the Middle and Outer rims rather than waste resources chasing loose ends.

Now it was a different matter altogether.

Wraith boarded a ship with a certain Pym – a Jedi Knight furred Bimm who at first cowered from the menacing human. As time passed however, he began warming up to Wraith and went on and on. Wraith would have been just as comfortable in silence but the Bimm kept on talking. As he indulged Pym, Wraith found himself missing Elara more and more.

They rendezvoused in a quiet street, almost in a ghetto.

"I'm glad you could join us, Knight Pym," said Kenobi from the forefront. Then he noticed Wraith, who walked out of the shadows and removed his hood. Kenobi's face let out a momentary look of concern before resuming his poker face.

"And Wraith," he continued, although it was more of a warning to the others than as a welcome. Three more Jedi turned to glare at him.

He had already met Skywalker and Ahsoka. The third Jedi was a very attractive Twi'lek with blue skin and a very revealing outfit.

She glared the most.

"Hi," said Wraith as he waved weakly. No one said anything. Pym and Kenobi inched away. Skywalker remained stiff as a board whilst the Twi'lek's eyes scanned him for weapons. Only one of his twin lightsabers was present on his hip: Wraith assassination training had taught him to hide the other in his sleeve, where he could surprise the enemy. Ahsoka's fingers inched closer to her lightsaber. Wraith noticed she had a shoto of similar design to her main weapon and had changed her outfit.

"I like the new look," he told her.

The female Twi'lek crossed her arms. "Is no one going to say it?" She looked around as Kenobi's shoulders slumped.

"Say what?" said Wraith, partially in challenge.

"You're Sith," she spat.

Wraith rolled his eyes very deliberately. "Former Sith," he insisted. "Why does no one ever listen to me?"

"I don't trust you," she snarled.

"I know." He sighed and looked her dead in the eyes. "And I don't care. I have a mission to finish. You can either comply and help out or get blasted. Your choice."

"You're not going anywhere Sith," she snarled again. Her foot shifted into a fighting stance. The fifth form, judging by the way she braced herself with her dominant foot backwards.

Wraith allowed his power to emanate from him, creating a thick atmosphere. "I do not have to answer to you," he said gently. "I am sorry for you, to have become such a violent little girl, but that is no reason to take out your petty anger issues on me."

Her eyes visibly darkened – he would have laughed at how easy it was to mess with her head. Her hand snapped at her lightsaber.

"Go ahead," challenged Wraith. "Try to attack me."

The tension was hung in the air. The Jedi all inched into a fighting stance and Wraith knew he could potentially have to fight off five Jedi warriors.

"Let me make one thing clear," said Wraith. All the diplomacy was gone from his voice. His power made the air thick and heavy, and the atmospheric pressure made their ears pop and made it hard to breathe.

"I am more powerful than all of you put together. I can cut you all down before you could ignite your weapons. So how about we all behave ourselves and avoid a massacre?"

Kenobi held his hands out. "Master Secura, please calm down. Wraith has already proven to be on our side."

She relaxed an inch. "You make one wrong move and you'll taste my sabre," she threatened. Wraith smiled cockily.

"Let's just get on with this," said Skywalker.

"Agreed," said Kenobi. "We will take different sides of this quadrant. We will be divided in teams." He paused for a moment.

"I'm fine working alone," said Wraith. "No one here trusts me enough and we would cover more ground as three units."

"No," replied Kenobi. "Jedi work as teams and this is a Jedi mission."

"I'll partner with him." Pym squeezed in between Ahsoka and Aayla Secura and looked up at Wraith. "You have done nothing to make me question you yet. So I have no reason not to trust you," he squeaked. Wraith couldn't help but smile at his innocent philosophy.

"I'll team up with you too," said Kenobi.

"It's settled then," said Skywalker. "Me, Ahsoka and Master Secura will go to the eastern side. Master, Pym and Wraith; you guys take to docks to the west."

It didn't take them long to find the ship they were looking for – Wraith now had a 'scent' he could follow.

"Excuse me gentlemen." Kenobi walked out and Pym accompanied him. Wraith pulled up his hood and obscured himself in the black cloak. The crew froze, the crate between them.

"Where is that shipment going?" asked Kenobi.

"Drommund Kaas. Some research facility," replied harshly one of them. The others glared at the two Jedi and their traditional robes.

"Who owns the facility?"

"We don't know."

Wraith looked up. "I think you do. Is the name Ozar familiar?"

The crew members masked their faces with failed poker faces. "I dunno," replied the leader again.

Wraith ignored him and Force gripped the crate. He crushed it and spilled its contents – a dozen vats of nutrition solutions and enhancement drugs.

"This is going to Darth Ozar's mutant facility," said Wraith. Their expressions darkened.

Kenobi held his lightsaber in hand. "You are all under arrest."

A warning flashed in Wraith's mind. "Watch out," he called as he snapped his palm out. From his sleeve, his second lightsaber shot forward and spun. Wraith ignited it remotely and it spun.

From behind Kenobi, a bounty hunter hovered with his jet pack and a sniper blaster. The plasma blade shred through him and the lightsaber bounced back to Wraith's awaiting hand. Both his lightsabers in hand, he turned back to the crew, who had armed themselves. Kenobi moved to the forefront and used his unique skills to deflect bolts of laser. Pym extracted his lightsaber, an orange coloured shoto, and leapt high in the air. His small blade pierced the second bounty hunter in the neck.

As they realized that they were going to be either killed or arrested, most of the crew ran.

"Let them go," said Kenobi. "We've got what we were looking for."

From a small office a human swaggered forward, like a bully. "What is the commotion, you idiots – oh shit." He saw Wraith and began shivering.

"Y- you." He channelled the Force and extracted a red lightsaber.

"Sith," squeaked Pym.

"No," replied Wraith. "Just an apprentice Dark Jedi. I'll handle him." He approached the Dark Jedi.

"Don't come any closer, traitor," yelled the darksider. He Force pushed a crate into Wraith. The latter kicked it away. The Dark Jedi was still a novice and weak. A good kick was all it took to break his Force powers. He couldn't even hold his lightsabers in a proper stance. Wraith's lightsabers spun. Once sliced through the lightsaber hilt and the other through his hand. Before pain even registered in the Dark Jedi, Wraith spun and connected his weapons. He gave his back to the enemy and thrust his weapon backwards, impaling the man. With a spin he beheaded the Dark Jedi.

Wraith gazed at the two stunned Jedi, challenging either to say something. They put away their weapons but their dark looks spoke for themselves: that was overkill, the kind of actions their associated with Sith.

"Hey look at this," Kenobi was fiddling with a communications grid.

"The bounty hunters are all mercenaries. All the crew were too. They sent a distress message to their HQ. Right where Anakin and his team went."

"It's a trap," said Pym.

"We need to get there quick," said Kenobi urgently. He looked around. "We'll never get there in time with speeders."

"Allow me," said Wraith. He grabbed a crew member who was moaning in pain and began healing him. As the man sighed in relief, Wraith infiltrated his mind, extracting memories of the Head Quarters building. Then he knocked him out mentally.

"I got the image," he told the two Jedi. "I can teleport you there."

The three Jedi were in trouble. The mercenaries, all wearing full Mandalorian bounty hunter armour surrounded them.

"Ozar will be pleased with three Jedi slaves," said their leader: a bulky man with horns on his helmet. His dark red armour, as opposed to his subordinates' black, was studded with spines and spikes.

Suddenly two Jedi, Kenobi and Pym, appeared out of nowhere, and on two mercs. The skirmish resumed.

"Surrender now you Jedi scum-" The leader's head was literally ripped off his neck. His jet pack went out of control, and his headless corpse crashed against the wall before sliding down in a puddle of blood.

Wraith appeared, telekinetically holding the severed head before throwing it away. He disappeared again.

There was only a flash of amber: Wraith's lightsabers flashed like lightning as he single-handedly felled the mercenaries. One of them threw down his weapon and flew away screaming for mercy.

Wraith Force crushed his jet pack and threw it away. As the man crawled away, wraith telekinetically ripped away bits of his armour. The man turned to face Wraith and crawled away from him.

"Mercy," he screamed. But Wraith offered none. This man did not deserve mercy – none of them did. He crushed the neck and twisted his head, killing him instantly.

"What are you doing?" Secura's scream echoed throughout the warehouse. Her blue lightsaber was now pointed at Wraith. "He was pleading mercy. This is a massacre, not a battle." She looked at Kenobi. "This is Sith work."

Wraith held his lightsabers at the ready. "I've already made this clear: I am neither Sith nor Jedi. You did not see the waves of mutants assault the Jedi Temple. You did not feel the pain and despair of thousands of souls being tormented. Don't you dare judge me, back off, little girl."

And that was the trigger. Secura lunged forwards, mercilessly hitting Wraith. He spun and countered. Skywalker and Ahsoka joined in, pushing Wraith back. He conjoined his weapons and attached back. All three of them used the same style, albeit different variants. They were no match for his vicious counterattacks. Kenobi blocked his strike and forced Wraith to switch tactics. Pym spun like a buzzsaw and Wraith found himself surrounded.

He was keeping up with them but they could get the upper hand at any time.

"I've already told you," he said as he kicked Kenobi in the face and smashed the handle of his weapon into Skywalker's nose. "You can't beat me." He Force gripped Ahsoka and threw her into Pym. He blocked Aayla's strike and elbowed her in the face. With an enhanced leap he flew from the centre and shot Force lightning. Red bolts surrounded the five Jedi, weakening them.

Ahsoka and Pym fell first, followed closely by Secura. Kenobi joined soon after. Only Skywalker resisted. He screamed in pain but for the briefest of moments, touched the Dark Side and resisted Wraith's lightning.

Wraith stopped his lightning. "You're not powerful enough to defeat me."

He teleported behind the weakened Jedi and whipped his fist into his Temple. Anakin fell, face forwards.

"Yet."

Wraith had already caught a glimpse of Skywalker's terrible future and for the second time considered killing him and eliminating all that future suffering.

No; the future needed the darkness within Skywalker. Through it, there would be peace and hope again.

Wraith held all five Jedi immobile with the Force and healed them. They yelled and fought back but it was all in vain. Only once they had sworn on their honour as Jedi not to attack him again did he relinquished his grip on them.

Then they proceeded to call the authorities and process the data banks of HQ. There was a lot of information but only one bit interested Wraith.

He finally knew where his enemy was.


	29. Battlecry

Battlecry

They were back on Drummund Kaas, back in that eerie Citadel. This time their target was a skyscraper, illuminated like a firefly.

Wraith spent the journey there in deep meditation. he knew that Darth Ozar was a businessman on the planet, running the corporate world from above and the underground as a Sith. It was a great enterprise had it not been for Wraith and Elara destroying his facility. The Force showed Wraith where would be located. He constructed a plan based on that information.

Turge, armed to the teeth and cloaked in an oversized black tarpaulin, separated from the group and headed towards the front entrance. He knew what his duty was: wreak havoc and drive Ozar out of hiding. He was more than happy to do that - anything to destroy of Ozar's was a joy in his tiny mutated heart. He would destroy everything and finally Ozar himself.

He planted his feet at the front entrance and removed his cloak. His eggshell white body was covered in plate armour: he looked like the segmented body of a Krayt dragon. Then again he was going for intimidation.

He wore giant oversized gauntlets, going all the way up to his elbows. Two enormous barrels extended forwards from the underside of the gauntlets. Giant ammo packs were strapped to the mutant's back. He raised his weapon at the building's main entrance and smiled.

Revenge.

Wraith, Elara and Pym were waiting for the first signs of panic. They heard Turge's artillery blast off duracrete chunks and glass. There were screams, as citizens and workers rushed out of harm's way. Wraith's could feel the wrath of the mutant - he just wanted destruction. The initial assault was a massacre.

It was easy enough to infiltrate the building afterwards. Security rushed out towards Turge, leaving an open path for the time. They made their way towards the main conference room.

"There." The voice belonged to a security guard. Four droids aimed their blasters at them, but it was too late. The Force users made short work of the droids and the man.

"Run, run." The members of the conference room came spilling out and there was a momentary confusion as twenty or so businessmen of various species burst from the door.

They stayed their weapons until Wraith identified which one was Ozar. The Darth hid his presence very well. Wraith extended his powers and held the members of the conference in his grasp. slowly he begun to squeeze. One of them broke free and Ozar's Force signature spiked for a moment.

"That's him," said Wraith as he pushed aside the other members.

Ozar was dressed in a formal business suit and his weapon was not to be seen. He must have been at a disadvantage because he ran, using the Force to speed up his movements.

The trio gave chase after him.

Ozar ran and stripped out of his suit.

"Kra," he yelled in his wrist comm. He could feel Wraith hot on his trail, maybe three seconds away.

He sprinted down the corridor and sensed his apprentice. She was a female Mirialan wore a black body suit and carried her lightsaber like a wand. In her other hand she held Ozar's weapon, and threw it as him as he passed.

"There are three of them. Distract them until I am ready to face them," he ordered her.

"Yes Master."

The three ran after Ozar and felt a second Force signature. They leapt over a desk that came hurtling out of nowhere and dodged a Force blast.

A Mirialan female leapt into their vision, scything a double-bladed lightsaber at Wraith. He dodged and Elara kicked her in the chest, sending her flying.

"Go, get Ozar," she said as she reached behind her. Her lightsaber pike extended and she ignited the purple blade. "I'll take care of her."

The two women eyed each other before trading a set of vicious blows. Elara could feel her opponent's technique – it was deliberate and careful. The witch went in for a killing strike but Kra was too fast and disappeared in a blur. Elara whipped her weapons but missed again.

"I may be at the initial stages of my training, but my basic training is perfected," said Kra as she augmented her speed and zigzagged from side to side like a fly.

Elara blocked a red blade to one side, then the other. Kra was using hit and run techniques. Her speed made it impossible for Elara to counter attack. All she could do was block and hold out. She studied the Sith apprentice – her strikes were direct albeit random. She had revealed that she was at the beginning of her training. Elara remembered Wraith explaining the seven forms of lightsaber combat to her – the first style learnt was Shii-Cho. It had basic strikes but also emphasized randomness. She recalled the advantages of the system: it was perfect for disarmament and multiple opponents. It relied on body position shifting so it did not make it ideal for a one-on-one fight. Kra's Force speed however had removed that disadvantage.

The witch channelled her powers and two thin strands of flame shot out. She tried to pincer Kra's movements – the blur that had been the Mirialan was now restricted to a space between the flames. Kra, however, became a blur once more and appeared under Elara's arms – far beyond the reach of her spells or weapon. Elara could only block one strike before her pike was ripped out of her hands.

A second strike descended on her neck.

The witch caught the blade with her bare hands, absorbing the plasma energy of the Sith's weapon. Kra remained stunned at this seemingly impressive feat.

Elara's other hand grabbed the saberstaff's handle. She channelled all that energy from the plasma blade, through her and into the hand holding the handle. The energy became intense fire and she literally melted the lightstaff's handle.

The plasma blades disappeared as their power source was cut off and Kra dropped the burning handle. She was in too much pain to defend herself against Elara.

The witch accumulated all that energy she absorbed and thrust her palm out against Kra's chest. The resulting Force blast not only sent Kra flying but left a wide gaping hole through her chest.

Ozar dodged a Force blast and spun into a corner. They were leading him towards the commotion. There was probably a task force waiting for him.

'No,' he thought. 'They would not involve clones. The beast.'

That was it. The giant mutant, that genetic defect must be the one distracting security.

Darth Ozar smiled. He had a score to settle with that mutant.

Turge had spent his ammo packs and dropped them. The barrels too – he did not need the extra weight. He threw bombs wherever he could, creating even more destruction.

And then he smelled him.

Ozar came into view and Turge lost his mind. From his giant gauntlets a pair of thick, short and wide blades, shaped like triangular chisels, popped out. The vibro-cutters were usually used to cut stone and precious stones, but any lesser weapon would be useless with Turge's bulk. With a vibro-blade on each forearm, he charged at Ozar.

"Die!"

From behind Ozar, Wraith felt Turge's wrath and saw him leap with his vibro-blades extended.

But he also felt Ozar's bloodlust and realized that the mutant would die if he confronted Ozar alone.

"No!" he yelled but it was too late. The beast had been unleashed.


	30. Endgame

Endgame

Ozar was waiting for the right moment.

Turge's blades were almost upon him and that was the right moment.

Losing his facility meant he lost a good chunk of power input but they had made a grave miscalculation. It was Ozar's innate darkness that had created the facility and kept it going. He was the black heart and dark soul of that facility and, without it to siphon off his power; he had become a nexus of the Dark Side.

His sulphur eyes gazed at Turge and emitted hatred: pure, unfiltered hatred. The Dark Side powers flared as his gaze transmitted that hate and turned it into offensive power. Ozar gazed at Turge – and the mutant disintegrated. He became a puff of ash, like a piece of paper burning and its ashes left in a breeze.

Wraith and Pym remained stunned, as if frozen in time. It was the rarest of Dark powers called Deadly Sight. Whilst most Dark Side powers used anger as their source, Deadly Sight was the gaze of hatred.

The Sith turned his gaze at Pym. Wraith stepped in front of him, shielding the small Bimm from sight, and channelled his own Force powers. He could feel Ozar's will power as his Deadly Sight willed his body gone. But Wraith countered with equal willpower and managed to remain intact.

"You are just like a plague," spat Ozar. "You're impossible to get rid of." He ignited his lightsaber and a veil of darkness gathered around him. "Unless I cut you off at the source and annihilate you once and for all."

The three clashed. Wraith and Ozar traded vicious blows, whilst Pym used his smaller frame to navigate is between them and leap. His shoto shot out like a blaster, stabbing into Ozar. The Sith's veil of darkness blocked every strike.

Wraith retreated suddenly and unleashed a barrage of red lightning. Ozar dissipated the attack and ducked as Pym shot from out of nowhere and nearly beheaded him. He hovered in the air as gravity increased. The two warriors were soon on their knees, struggling to breathe.

'It's a Force power,' said Wraith telepathically. 'Absorb it.'

Pym was not a master of tutaminis, the art of absorption and redirection of the Force, but could perform it. They both redirected the gravity power back at Ozar: Wraith blasting him with lightning and Pym unleashing a blast of pure kinetic energy.

Darth Ozar was sent upwards and into the ceiling. Wraith Force pushed, keeping him in place. The Sith was disarmed and completely vulnerable. Pym leapt, ran up the wall and Force jumped. His orange shoto was inches away from killing the Sith.

All it took was a twitch of his fingers. Ozar telekinetically brought his weapon upwards, like a red arrow. It intercepted Pym's leap and impaled the little furred Bimm. The force of the impact sent the now dead Jedi against the wall; nailing him into the stone like a grotesque ornament.

Ozar broke free of Wraith's hold and retrieved his weapon. There was a silent look between them. Then the Sith brought the ceiling down and flew out of the hole he just created.

Wraith's powers saved him from the falling debris. He glared at the hole where Ozar escaped through – no, not escaped: the Sith simply changed location.

His eyes wondered over Turge and Pym. Perhaps he should heal them. No, that was not the will of the Force. His destiny was to destroy Ozar and set the future for the rest of the galaxy. That was why he was enlightened in his jail cell all the time ago – it felt like years. He, as a person, may have changed, but his mission, his reason to live, had not.

He extended his senses and felt Elara's Force signature. She was alive and that made him happy. If he fought Ozar away from here, she had a better chance of survival. It was a battle to the death between him and the Sith. If she interfered, she would be killed.

So he squeezed his lightsaber and allowed the Force to guide him again. He took a step and felt space shift around him.

He reappeared on the rooftop of the building. Darth Ozar stood at ease on the other side. He wore only his boots and billowing pants. Natural lightning illuminated the grey skies and his black Sith tattoos showed briefly under the flash of light. His red lightsaber hummed in anticipation at his side; the plasma blade pointed downwards.

Rain began falling; gently at first, then picking up the pace. Every drop hummed and hissed against the Sith lord and his weapon.

Wraith removed his cloak, revealing the sleeveless black tunic he wore beneath it. His lighsaber ignited twice, and a flame coloured plasma blade appeared on each end.

Both Force users stood there, starring at each other. Their Force signatures were at their fullest and loudest. There was no more need for secrets now- this was an all-out fight.

Their presence began pushing against one another before they even moved. It was like two opposing tidal waves crashing against each other. Then the fight began.

Red lightsaber met amber lightsaber in a flurry of blows. Wraith blocked an overhead strike and spun low. Ozar pushed with the Force, saving himself from impalement. He suffered a light scratch on the leg and Wraith was sent sprawling.

Wraith shot lightning and the moisture increased its power. Ozar deflected it. Wraith teleported to his flank and their weapons met again. Ozar's free hand collected shadows and became a spike. Wraith unhinged the unused end of his lightsaber and parried the shadow blade. Ozar augmented his strength with the Force, driving Wraith down.

Wraith focused his power on the moisture and a tidal wave of water rose from behind Ozar. He turned in horror as Wraith slip from under him with a Force pull and saw the wave crash down on the Sith.

Ozar yelled in anger and his lightning arced towards Wraith. The latter dodged and Force pulled his leg from under him. Still holding the Force grip, Wraith rose to the skies, spun and slammed Ozar down on the roof ground. Ozar steadied himself and absorbed most of the impact.

Both of them now hung in the air clashing against each other. They were evenly matched and the storm raged more violently as they went in for the kill over and over again.

They smashed into a blade-lock again and Ozar drove them down. He straddled Wraith as both lighsabers hummed dangerously close to their faces. Shadow tendrils rose from Ozar and threatened to piece Wraith. He utilized a combination of powers: first the rendered himself intangible. At the same time he put up a barrier of light so that the Dark Side powers will not harm him. Lastly he Force pushed himself: upwards and into Ozar.

He phased through his enemy and materialized above Ozar's back. In one swift motion he conjoined his weapon again and spun. Ozar's red lightsaber parried his strike and shadows rose. Wraith broke off his weapon and defended himself using the Jar'kai technique called Rising Whirlwind, in combination with Shien and Soresu techniques.

The Force users clashed again. Ozar's weapon arced in an overhead strike as Wraith's paired weapons met it in a cross shape. They pushed against each other.

The ground shook beneath them and crumbled. Their Force powers reacted with each other and an anti-matter field was created around them. They ended up floating in midair. The more they struggled, the large the field grew. The roof began disintegrating as the sphere shaped field consumed every material thing.

From Ozar, shadows rose and engulfed him. His red lightsaber was shrouded in obsidian. From Wraith, light emerged and his twin amber lightsabers were bathed in light.

They let go of their weapons: this was a battle of wills. The lightsabers remained there, remotely controlled by their owners- they were mere extensions of their willpower.

As their weaopons floated above them, the two pushed with their palms extended. There was an invisible heavy force between them, the balance: it was a surge of destructive energy, and the key to win. If only he could do it, if only he could push through, Wraith would finally be at peace.

But his strength was failing. Even the Force within him began ebbing. He was reaching the last of his reserves. Perhaps this was how it had to end – mutual destruction.

He felt the Force answer his plea. Power siphoned through him as he felt himself become one with the Force. And in that blizzard of sensations, he got a glimpse of Ozar's past and his destiny. He also felt Elara. She had gotten away long before the building had collapsed.

He saw the future he desperately fought for: the destruction as Order 66 would be issued. The fall of the Jedi. And then, one man, chosen by the Force to become the kindle of hope. He also saw the fearful Sith who renounces evil at the last moment to save his son. The fall of Sith and an era of peace.

And then, like a tiny black hole, he saw an anomaly. A world, perhaps even a different galaxy. The Unknown.

Then he saw them: the next generation. A Nautolan with a curved lightsaber smiling happily. A purple skinned Twi'lek, not unlike Elara's blade. A skilled yet shy Zabrak mechanic and a brash female human pilot. An engineer who spends his time tinkering with mechanics. All of them Jedi and somehow connected.

But that was another time. Perhaps even another lifetime. Perhaps this was how the Force reassured him that the fruits of his labour will prosper.

He felt all their power, every living creature, who was to perish should Ozar exist, and he fought for them. This was why he fought – all this time, he thought it was the Force. But the Force was alive: life from these beings who desperately wanted to live.

And live they shall.

Blinding light exploded from Wraith as he pushed through. Ozar felt his power and wondered: just where can such strength be found? All this time he spent searching for power and now that he found it, he was to perish by it.

Light and power consumed the sky and Darth Ozar felt himself disintegrating. In one fell swoop he ceased to exist, all of his influence gone.

The light kept on expanding, travelling through the Force, to reach every corner of the universe, cleansing the Sith's presence forever. Only one remained now, but he needed to be kept alive. Darth Sidious – the lynchpin of the future.

Then finally the light faded too and Wraith found himself face up on debris. He no longer had the strength to move or even fell the lightsabers pressing painfully against this back.

He felt nothing.

And in that nothing, he found total peace.


	31. Welcome to the End

Welcome to the End

They were back on Dathomir: Elara's home planet. After Darth Ozar's defeat, she had found her beloved weak and in a pile of rubble. His Force signature was only a fraction of its former self. It seemed that Wraith had burnt through the last of his power and was left as a husk.

She had healed him and marvelled at the look on his face. She had always noticed the heavy look in his eyes; the heavy burden which the universe placed on his shoulders. But now he looked light and at ease. She found herself attracted to the newer version of Wraith.

He had regained his strength on the ship as he asked her to take him to her home world. He needed a planet coated with the Force, a nexus of power, far from prying eyes and curious power mongers. She knew of a cave, on the far edges of the Signing Mountain Clan's territory.

During this short trip she noted his change and spoke to him about it. He agreed – liked the newer version of himself too. It was then when she asked about his name. Was there a meaning behind Wraith? He said that once his master told him about these ghosts fuelled by a desire to torment and punish. When the Force illuminated him to a higher purpose he decided to become a wraith, a phantom of torment, for the Sith. Now; now he was just a ghost in a shell. There was no purpose for him anymore.

Elara did not understand, but that was fine with Wraith; he would show her soon enough. They arrived at the mouth of the cave and Wraith motioned for the Wraith to sit with him.

"Let me show you," he said. "All of the future." He leaned in and kissed her.

Their minds linked and Wraith passed on thoughts to her. He showed her all he remembered: the future that the Force showed him, with all that pain and suffering. But after that wave of darkness, hope and love will reign again and that was what his purpose was.

However, there was no place for him in that future. Mortris, Ozar, the mutants: they were anomalies. But so was he. He needed to remove himself from the future.

A tear welled up in Elara's eyes: he had come here to die. That's why he needed a nexus – to disappear within the Force.

"No," she whispered. "Not now that we can enjoy peace." She cupped his face and cried.

"I must," he said. A lump had formed on his throat. "There is no place for me here. If I am here, then the future will not take place. I will become like Ozar; and I would rather die than destroy the universe."

He squeezed her hand. "I love you." He had to stop to swallow and wipe away tears. "I love you but it's time for me to go."

"Blast the universe," she said furiously. "Blast the future too. Why can't we be together now? We deserve it!"

He smiled at her and kissed her gently. "You don't mean that. Your heart is good and you know I'm right."

He looked at the cave. "I'll stay there and become one with the Force."

She squeezed his arm. "Then I'll come with you."

"You do not have to. You do not have to disappear with me."

"No!" she screamed. "If you are an anomaly than I am one too. And if I have to become one with the Force to be with you, then so be it."

Wraith's tears increased. He couldn't say anything – just how does one express love so strong, so certain, so pure, in mere words?

So together they entered the cave, never to exit again. They sealed the entrance and created a cocoon of energy for them to lie in. They lay down together, holding hands.

They became one with the Force, transcending the living world. The cave too was hidden from the physical realm. There, they would lie, as phantasmal energy hidden from everyone and everything. There they would lie, in wait until the universe and the Force needed them again.

It was a good life, they lived. They had done right by the universe and now the universe will give them everlasting peace. Theirs was a little world of tranquillity and love. The wraith had served its duty: now the ghost shall rest.

Until the universe called for it once more.


	32. Author's Note

Author's Note

I'll try to keep this short and brief. I wanted to drop by and say a few words to properly conclude this saga.

This has been the longest non-profit project I've undertaken to date. I have no idea when it started but I know it was long ago and that should be enough. The idea for Wraith came from a dream (nightmare), a weekend of geeking out on the sci-fi series Star Wars and a very boring car ride, which helped me flesh out the initial outline of the story.

Now as I'm sure many of you are wondering; yes, this is a conclusion. You will not see Wraith for a very long time, if at all.

Let me get this straight – there is a part 2 but it's buried in my head. It concerns the six characters Wraith sees in his Force vision in the final fight. However, that particular project is at the very bottom of my to-do list. Heck, it's not even listed: it's just a foot note.

For those of you who are no aware of it yet, I am a full-time novelist/author. I write books. Awesome books. Most of them of a much better quality than my fanfiction because they go through some very harsh editor who whip me if I don't obey them.

Right now I am swamped with the Legacy series. I am rewriting/ editing Book 1 First Born, tweaking some short stories from the same series and editing Book 2 (title still in progress). I have been signed on with AEC Stellar Publishing, and am now working under a very strict deadline. First Born will be published sometime late summer/early fall.

Also if you follow my blog, you might have read an original short story entitled Genesis. That was in fact the prologue of Book 1 of the Pandora Chronicles – another series I'm writing.

So you get the idea – Ryan has way too much stuff to do. However, I will keep writing one-off short stories when the mood strikes or I get a break or suffer a nervous breakdown. Just don't hold your breath.

In the meantime, stalk me on social media. I am a Twitter fan ( enkousama) and also have a Facebook page (RyanAuthor). Also follow my blog – Stories From the Voices in my Head (how apt). You might find it easier to type .com. Do it and your life will be enriched with awesome fiction, insane rants and shameless plugging. Plus you'll make me happy.

I sincerely thank you all for your reading and supporting of my work. I hope to entertain you with more stories in the near future.

Ryan Attard


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